Blood Unbound
by Britedark
Summary: Tsubaki is dead, but the seal on Inuyasha's blood is shattered. Can he find a way to control his youkai blood before it is too late? AU, sequel to Tsubaki's Revenge. Epilog: Final conclusion, and notes.
1. Prolog

Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on "Inuyasha", copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

**Author's Note: **This is the third story in an alternative history. I encourage you to read "The Arrow Not Burning" and "Tsubaki's Revenge" before this story.

Prolog

News traveled slowly in the human society of the Senduki Judai. No faster could any news go, than that with a man on a galloping horse, and most news, much slower. Most humans never heard more than vague rumors carried by itinerant monks or peddlers, or truly, unless war threatened, knew much of what went beyond the confines of the next closest village.

The youkai gossip network was another thing entirely. News traveled on the breath of the breeze, or the shift of youki winds. Youkai were not limited to mortal senses, and some had ranges that extended far beyond human capability.

Of course, few events even in the youkai world traveled past local concentrations of youkai life. Who cared about a fight between two ogres, as to who was stronger? But the fate of a jewel that could grant any youkai enormous power—ah, now that was a different thing. So was the scandal attached to the taiyoukai who had once ruled the Western Lands, even two centuries after his death.

The pure-blooded son of that taiyoukai would never admit awareness that the youkai grapevine even existed, let alone ever acknowledge that he might conceivably make use of it. For the most part, he had no need of it, with the refinement of senses that no ordinary youkai could match. For the rest, well, that was one reason for tolerating the imp who had decided to follow him around. Jaken gossiped with the best of them, and on rare occasions learned something of possible interest to the youkai lord.

Had it not been for the rumors coming out of the west, he might have paid more attention to the latest whispers about the half-breed. He'd been thoroughly disgusted to hear of the hanyo's involvement with a ningen woman—a priestess, no less! But it was only one more demonstration that the half-breed had only inherited the weakest part of his father's blood. It hadn't been important enough to divert from his path, to seek the youngster out and destroy him, no matter how amply the boy demonstrated his unfitness to carry the Inu no Taisho's blood.

The news that the half-breed had somehow made both the Shikon No Tama and himself vanish was puzzling, but he saw no reason to react. The jewel was of no interest. If the half-breed had somehow managed to disappear for good, that was an annoyance, but not worth wasting any thoughts on it.

The reappearance of the hanyo, as a captive of yet another miko, did attract his attention longer than the time it took to consider the whispers and dismiss them. The thought that anything with a bit of his father's blood should be so weak as to be captured by a ningen was rather revolting. He even shifted his pattern of wandering to range closer to where the execrable hanyo was being held, though he had no plans to rescue the miserable, disgusting creature. Besides, there were still those indications of something happening on the western borders. That needed, and deserved, more of his time, than one mis-born half-breed.

But something carried on the breeze this morning brought him to a halt. It was a ghost of a scent, once familiar and strange. It was his brother's scent, and yet, it wasn't. It had shifted, dropping something, adding something. He paused, concentrating on that ghost, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He finally realized what the difference was.

It was entirely youkai, that ghost of a scent. It could have been his father's, or his. Strange, and vaguely disturbing. Sesshomaru stood still, puzzling over the oddity, then made a decision. He changed course. He ignored the impertinent, unimportant question squawked by his follower.

He wasn't going to try and find the hanyo. Not yet. But this direction was as good as any other…


	2. Cliffside

**Blood Unbound, Part I: Cliffside**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

He ran.

He was a red blur running through the forest, leaving a wake of startled, screeching birds and frozen animals. A human hunter could only stand and scratch his head, wondering at the abrupt commotion. A snake youkai sensed the oncoming hanyo and coiled up, in preparation for an attack. But even as it started its attack, the red blur had changed course and was lengths away, leaving the youkai to snag nothing but air.  
He continued to run. He ran through a meadow and caused the grazers to stampede, to the dismayed shouts of their guardians. He did not hear their curses for the wind in his ears.

He ran. He did not want to stop. He did not want to think. He did not want to feel. He did not want to remember.

He ran, until he ran out of room.

The recognition of the edge of the cliff came just too late to allow for an orderly halt. His last step on rock changed midstride to a sideways kick. Flinging his head and shoulders back and twisting, he managed to get one set of steel-hard claws into the stone lip of the cliff. They scraped, dug in, and then flew free as his momentum dragged him away. The other set of claws slashed sideways, managing to bite into the cliff face long enough change his momentum. A foot managed to kick against a spur of rock and slow him down, and then both sets of claws, glinting gold, slammed into rock and penetrated deeply enough to catch and hold.

The abrupt stop slammed through his body, forcing a grunt that exhausted most of the air in his lungs. His body swayed, depending from taut, crooked fingers, as his heart hammered and his lungs labored. Panting, Inuyasha could barely hear anything beyond the pounding of blood, or feel anything beyond the rasp of air in his raw throat and the ache in his ribs. Finally, though, his breath began to ease, and his thunderous heartbeat fade. He became aware of other things. Fingers aching from cuts and shattered claws. A rhythmic crashing of waves against rocks roaring beneath his dangling feet. Salt stinging his nose through the shrouding of fire-rat cloth about his head from the long sleeves.

He growled faintly to himself, aware of more things his body was complaining about, like hunger and thirst and fatigue. Where was he, he wondered, and how long had he been running? And why had he been running so mindlessly, as to go over a cliff? "Baka," he muttered to himself.

"Indeed."

The silky voice, dripping with disdain in that single, softly-spoken word, drove a spike of pure panic through Inuyasha's mind. Sesshomaru! With a single, convulsive heave of his arms, Inuyasha flipped himself up and through a back somersault, soaring over the head of the tall youkai standing at the edge of the cliff. As soon as one foot touched ground, he bolted, heading towards the tree line, his only thought to escape.

He was less than halfway to the tree line when a hand grabbed the back of his neck and threw him down. He landed face-first and slid to a stop. Before he could even start to move, a foot landed between his shoulder blades and held him down. "So this is what cavorting with mikos does to a dirty little half-breed," came the inu-youkai's silky, sneering words. "The hanyo reeks of fear, and cuts off its hair."

"I didn't cut off my hair!" yelped Inuyasha, as scalding shame joined the fear. "Damn you, let me go!"

"Reduced to begging. How pathetic." Claws clamped down on the back of his neck. Inuyasha yelped as the foot was withdrawn and he was yanked off the ground, not quite dangling, his toes scrabbling to support his body. He tried to lift his hands to pry at the vise around his neck, but they faltered and fell back against his sides as poison seared into his neck. "If you want to live a bit longer, little brother, satisfy my curiosity. Just why were you running through the woods more blindly than a scared rabbit, hmm?" A claw drove through the base of one ear. "I though surely that even a mere hanyo must have more courage than that weak, timid creature." Oozing poison, the claw slowly pulled through the white triangle of sensitive flesh and fur.

"Stop it!" shrieked Inuyasha, shame and anger burning through his veins, clawing against the fear that wanted to consume him. A tiny part of him screamed in pure rage. _Why? Why did it have to be this way? Why did his brother have to hate him, despise him, torture him and try to kill him? Why did he have to be so weak, why couldn't he be more like his brother, never having to be afraid, never having to feel guilty, or ashamed, or terrified that he was going to die? Why couldn't he smirk at death, not care if someone died at his hands--_

Fire pulsed through his body.


	3. A Farewell

**Blood Unbound, Part II: A Farewell  
**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

Using the crude crutch, Kikyo made her way across the porch. At its edge, she carefully set the tip of the crutch on the solid ground below the porch, tested that the wood would not slip, then clutched the crutch with both hands and hopped down on her good foot. A few more steps, and she lowered herself to the crude bench Kenichi and his brothers had made for her several days ago. Setting the staff against the bench, Kikyo leaned back, tightening her shoulder blades in an effort to work out the tension. It had only been a few steps from the room where she had slept, to the porch, yet she was felt as tense and tired as if she'd been wearing a badly balanced pack for an entire day! If only her leg would stop hurting so much! After almost half a moon, it should have been hurting less, as the bone started to knit. Had the splints not kept the ends of the bone from shifting? Was the bone healing incorrectly, or not healing at all? Oh, Kami, please, she didn't want to end up lame! To not be able to walk freely to the woods and back, to not be able to go where she was needed without assistance--she didn't want to think about it. She just—didn't...

"Ane-sama, here's your breakfast. Satsuki said you should be hungry—you hardly ate last night." Kikyo looked up and smiled as Kaede stepped down from the porch, holding a tray. The girl gave her a frowning look as she placed the tray on Kikyo's lap. "She also said I was to make sure you ate everything, or she'd have words with you."

Kikyo kept her smile on, though she wanted to wince and look away. No, she hadn't been able to eat the night before, and she didn't feel hungry now. On the other hand, she knew very well that she needed to eat, so she looked down at the tray, holding back a sigh. Picking up the small, shallow bowl, she swallowed the strong, willowbark tea in one breath, then took up the cup of regular tea. After one swallow, she took a second sip, this one appreciatively. Satsuki might not be the best cook in the village, but she did have a deft hand at teas, and a willingness to experiment. This morning's cup held more than a hint of mint, and Kikyo found herself relaxing as she breathed in the fragrant steam. Setting down the cup, she eyed the contents of the tray, realizing that someone must have been up and fishing before dawn. Blinking back a sudden stinging behind her eyes, the young woman picked up the chopsticks and began to eat.

Almost before she realized it, she was finishing off the last of the rice balls, with nothing left of the fish but bones. "Hah!" exclaimed Kaede, as she removed the tray from Kikyo's lap. "I bet you feel better now."

Kikyo found that her smile this time was unforced. "Yes, thank-you, sister. And thank Satsuki and whoever caught the fish, will you? It was all delicious."

Kaede flashed a satisfied grin. "I helped with the rice. Kenichi caught the fish, just for you."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Kenichi's been very helpful of late."

The girl shrugged. "I think he still feels bad about hurting Inuyasha, when the fake monk showed up. I've told him that it wouldn't have made any difference, when Tsubaki came, but I don't think he believes me."

Inuyasha. The pain in her heart, which she had been able to forget for a little while, returned. "Perhaps I should speak with him," she said quietly. "I'm certain he would have forgiven Kenichi, given the circumstances."

"He didn't seem angry about it," said Kaede. "He was more worried about what the fake monk would do."

Silence fell between the two sisters as they thought about the absent hanyo. Kaede's gaze dropped to the tray she was holding. "Ane-sama," she said presently, "do you think he'll come back?"

Kikyo swallowed the lump in her throat. "I—I don't know, little sister. I don't—know."

Silence descended again, this time broken by giggles and laughter coming from some small distance away. Kikyo tensed a little, hearing the rich baritone that was one of the voices making up that chorus. Kaede took one look downriver along the bank, and jumped to the porch. "Gotta go get these washed," she called back, disappearing inside. Kikyo sighed, rather wanting to pick up her crutch and follow her indoors. But she'd never get inside without being seen—

"Kikyo-sama!" Miyatsu's voice rang out barely moments after the door slid shut behind her sister. Putting a pleasant expression on her face, Kikyo turned her head. Miyatsu strode towards her, a broad smile on his face, trailed by a group of adolescent girls and young women—one of whom was roundly pregnant. Exclamations and greetings rose as they saw her. "Kikyo-sama!" "Miko-sama!" "Oh, you're looking better!" "Miko-sama, good morning!" "Wow, you look lots better than last night! Hoshi-sama said you were really upset because Inuyasha-san ran away!"

Glares settled on the youngest, who turned a brilliant red as she realized her impolitic statement. Kikyo also glared, but at the monk, who returned an innocent face. "Yes, thank-you," Kikyo said, hauling back the pleasant expression. "I do feel better this morning. I had a very good meal—Kenichi caught a fish, and my sister made rice balls."

The slightest of frowns briefly crossed Miyatsu's face. "Kenichi?" exclaimed young Aki. "Is he wooing you? I thought mama said he's going to marry Suzumi."

Groans rose from the rest of the assembled girls. "Kenichi is not wooing me," Kikyo said, giving the girl an assuring smile, regretting that she'd mentioned the young man. "He's just being a very generous and caring young man."

"Yoshiro says he still feels bad about hitting the hanyo," said Tameo. She winced suddenly, touching her belly. "Ouch. Kikyo, is it all right if—"

Kikyo nodded and patted the space beside her. Miyatsu immediately put a hand under the pregnant woman's elbow and assisted her the remainder of the way to the bench. Kikyo eyed him covertly, well aware of the impression he'd been making on the village. Even Satsuki had been brought to a blush at least once, and he seemed to have entranced almost every other young woman in the village. Satsuki had scarcely had to cook for him, given the many invitations to a meal that he'd received. Why she hadn't seen more than a few envious or annoyed glances from the men, she didn't quite understand, except that Miyatsu had, despite his evenings and mornings spent charming the female half of the population, obviously spent most of his waking time with her, and on clearly serious business.

Tameo sighed in relief as she settled on the bench. "Oh, that's better. I can't believe I have another moon and a half to go! I feel so big already! And the baby keeps kicking when I'm trying to sleep!"

Kikyo eyed the young woman, carefully examining her face. She did look tired, but there were no signs of stress and her color was good. "You look well. Yoshiro is taking good care of you?"

"Oh, he hovers so!" Tameo gave a breathy laugh. "Mother scolds him and sends him on errands, or I don't think he'd let me out of his sight! Especially since that miko was killed by that mon—oh!" She clapped her hand to her mouth, looking away. "S-sorry..." she mumbled.

Kikyo sighed. "Inuyasha's transformation was monstrous," she said quietly. "I am grateful that I was able to stop him before he harmed any of you."

The silence was uncomfortable, the girls looking away from the priestess. Miyatsu finally broke it, clearing his throat. "I think you should all be grateful that you have such a strong priestess, able to not only stop a killer like that, but transform him back to normal."

"It wasn't—"

He talked over her attempt to protest that the power had come from the arrow. "But I'm afraid I do have bad news, which is why I came over here to talk with Kikyo-sama." He gave her a roguish smile. "I'm afraid it's time for me to leave. I need to get back to my temple to replace my shajuko, and get some more training in that spell I almost killed us with." A chorus of dismayed exclamations rose about him, which he ignored, watching Kikyo.

"You have done far more than you originally promised me, hoshi-sama," said Kikyo, hiding a flicker of relief. "You have my deepest thanks."

"There is something I would like to speak about with you before I leave," he said. He flicked his gaze at the gathered girls. "If we could be alone?"

There were pouts and sighs. Kikyo started to reach for her crutch, then hesitated as Tameo touched her arm. "I'm fine—you stay. I should be getting back to my hut, anyway."

Miyatsu helped her to her feet, giving her a smile. With a few protests, firmly subdued by Tameo and one the other girls, the small group moved away. Kikyo ignored their departure, keeping her gaze fixed on the river. Their voices had faded to inaudibility when Kikyo felt the monk sit beside her. He captured her hand in both of his, and then, when she tensed, allowed her to pull it free.

"They are all beautiful girls and women," he said, after a few moments of silence. "And few things are more beautiful than a happily-pregnant woman. But none of them are as beautiful as you, my dear miko-sama."

Kikyo stiffened. "I—am not beautiful," she denied.

"Oh, but you are," he told her. "Beautiful and powerful and strong-willed. You are a woman to make a man forget his desire to reach nirvana in this current lifetime, and turn to a desire to participate in this life, in all ways. I envy your hanyo."

Kikyo shifted her position slightly; feeling extremely uncomfortable with where she feared the conversation was going. "Houshi-sama..."

"Oh, do not worry," he said, with a chuckle. "I would never attempt to steal from another man what he has earned. Nor would I wish to make any woman cry."

"Hoshi—"

He patted her hand. "Yasuo-dono and I had a long conversation last night about your and the hanyo's problems. You told me that he had been willing to become human, to help purify the Shikon No Tama. That option is gone, of course, but I'm positive that I have heard —or read somewhere—of purification spells that could permanently drive the youkai blood out of a being with mixed blood. I intend to search for such a spell, and if I find one, I will return to you with it, and bless both of you at your wedding."


	4. Questions

**Blood Unbound, Part III: Questions**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._**  
**

The pulse of youki was completely unexpected. Sesshomaru released his chokehold on Inuyasha and stepped back, not from any fear or even conscious caution, but from the pure instincts of a predator confronted with something new. The hanyo crumpled to his knees, flung himself to his feet, managed to half-run, half-stagger a handful of steps, tripped over nothing and went down on his side. Breath coming in pants, he crawled to his hands and knees, then grunted as his youki flared again.

Sesshomaru watched him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as the hanyo went rigid, ears flat to his skull. The inu youkai breathed in his brother's scent, analyzing every nuance. Exhaustion, starvation, dehydration; fear, anger, shame, desperation, faint traces of new blood and fresh sweat, and days-old reek of both. The hanyo's breath was harsh, whistling through clenched teeth.

All of that was familiar to the youkai, from one encounter or another.

What was new was the unusually strong tang of the the hanyo's youkai blood. The blood had always been muted and polluted by his human blood; no more than a pale, flaccid presence, compared to the power of a pure inu youkai. But with each pulse of youki, the scent of youkai blood grew stronger. Which had never happened before.

Sesshomaru considered. He took a slow step forward, eyes fixed on Inuyasha's form. A second step. He started to take a third--

"Stop!" The voice shrieked in desperation as a third flash of youki shivered the atmosphere. Sesshomaru held himself motionless. "Get away!"

He held himself perfectly still, watching the now-shaking hanyo, whose claws were driven into the rocky soil. "Why should this Sesshomaru do as you ask?" he asked after a few moments. He left his body start to shift forward--

"Please! Mustn't -- don't want -- turn -- youkai!"

Sesshomaru blinked. He eased his stance, drawing back, unaware of doing so. In decades of watching his brother, chastising his brother, testing his brother, that was one word that had never passed Inuyasha's lips. The hanyo had seethed with fear and pain many times, had been driven into desperate, despairing defense, but never had he groveled. Not to Sesshomaru, not to any other youkai, not to humans.

And then his eyes widened, as the meaning of the rest of the hanyo's words penetrated. _Turn youkai?_ Impossible. The boy was hanyo. Human blood poisoned the youkai half, rendering it inefficient, weak, useless. Not even the blood of a taiyoukai could escape the withering effect of being mingled with mortal blood.

And yet, the scent of the youkai half was stronger. Noticeably stronger. The pulses of youki were like nothing he had ever detected from his brother. And there was that vagrant scent from a quarter moon before, that elusive hint of pure inu youkai blood.

Sesshomaru chose. Though he was tempted to continue to move forward, to learn if his half-brother could, indeed, somehow transform as he had claimed, the inu youkai chose otherwise. His curiosity was itching, and he knew from vast experience, that the insufferable hanyo became less coherent, the more Sesshomaru posed an immediate threat. A transformation into youkai, even if it were possible, would not change that fact. And, so, Sesshomaru turned around. Leisurely, with no hint of haste. Just as leisurely, he strolled away from his brother. Six steps. He turned around, and let his gaze fall back upon his brother. And waited.

Time passed. The hanyo continued to breathe heavily, his body locked with tension, sweat dripping from his face. Sesshomaru watched with hidden interest, feeling the shifting aura and scenting every slight shift in mood and tension. The strength of the youkai blood had stopped increasing, but it was apparent that the hanyo was still fighting against himself. To keep the youkai blood from somehow taking control? Sesshomaru contemplated the levels of fear and anger still radiating from the hanyo, and decided on a test.

"This Sesshomaru has decided not to kill the hanyo Inuyasha. For today."

Startlement flashed from the hanyo, and for a moment, the blood scent flared. And then the hanyo gave something like a growl, as the hands drove claws deeper into the earth. He held his breath for a long moment, then blew it out with a snarled 'no.' Slowly, his breathing slowed and deepened. Sesshomaru smelled the intensity of anger and fear falling, and with them, the strength of the youkai blood smell. He waited patiently for the hanyo to finish asserting his limited control over his emotions, content to wait until that moment, before starting to satisfy his curiosity.

He was rather annoyed, when the hanyo crumpled onto his side in a dead faint.

The hanyo was such a weak, despicable creature.

* * *

Water smashed into his nose, his mouth, his ears. Startled awake, Inuyasha instinctively breathed in, and then choked and gagged, frantically thrashing. His head broke surface, and he gasped, choked again, coughed, and went back under. His feet hit mud, and he lunged upwards. He broke surface, and nearly rose completely out of the water, before his momentum disappeared and he fell back down. His feet hit with a jolt, and as he thrashed about seeking his balance, realized that the water was only about chest deep. Coming to a standstill, he coughed the last of the water out of his throat, then panted, wondering how he had ended up in a small river. His last memory was of a cliffside-- 

"Shit!" His nose cleared up enough to detect that most unwelcome scent at the same time that his memory returned. His attempted jump out of the water and onto the bank was humiliatingly short; with a scramble, he pulled himself up, then whirled to face the other bank. "Sesshomaru!" he snarled, ears going flat. "What are you doing here?"

The youkai lounged on a convenient, fallen tree trunk, an image of indolent perfection. The late morning sun awoke the brilliant white in his silks, and glinted off his silver hair. He half leaned, half sat along the angled trunk, one foot propped up on the wood, the other dangling. Much of his luxurious fur piece was draped over the trunk, with the end twitching slowly, rather like the tail tip of a cat.

The movement caught Inuyasha's eyes. Two plus two came together, and he cursed again, as he realized the taiyoukai had used his fur piece to pick him up and drop him in the river. "What the fuck do you want, Sesshomaru?" he demanded.

The tip of the fur twitched, derisively to his eyes "Such a pity," observed the older brother, the faintest of smirks on his flawless face. "The hanyo knows how to say 'please,' but not 'thank-you.' This Sesshomaru obvserved the hanyo's desperate need for water and food, and condescended to provide both, but does the hanyo show gratitude? Alas, he is such an ill-begotten, lowly creature, that that feeling is beyond him."

Inuyasha snarled, hands clenched into fists. "Gratitude? What gratitude? You dropped me into the water on purpose, you bastard!"

"The hanyo also needed a bath."

Inuyasha snarled at that, unable to think of a counter. Bitter anger thrummed through him, making his hands clench, bitterness at his own impotence, at being confronted with his immaculate, powerful, elegant half-brother who was everything he was not, and who never passed up an opportunity to grind his inadequacy into his face. The power he'd wanted, the power he had once hoped to obtain with the Shikon No Tama, the power to make that scornful, overbearing inu youkai on the other bank _respect_ him, acknowledge him, admit him as an equal--

Fire rose in the back of his thoughts, heat shimmering in his body. Swearing to himself, Inuyasha looked down, trying to push the anger away, the anger that was enticing his youkai blood to the surface. The blood that had taken him over once already. The blood that would turn him into a mindless killer. Lifting one hand, he wrapped his fingers around the rosary. The collar Kikyo had put on him for his own good. For a moment, the bitter rage threatened to spike again--she _dared_! But he pushed the anger away again, forcing himself to recall the touch of her hand on his cheek, and her promise to use it only to stop his transformation. She had done it to help him.Not like Tsubaki. Nothing like Tsubaki.

The despair that had driven him away from her dropped down on him, drowning the anger. His body sagged, aware of its exhaustion, his ears going into full droop. His brother was still across the river watching him, doubtless ready to sneer at him, but for the moment, he didn't care.

"If the hanyo does not intend to eat, then it should be prepared to answer questions," came his brother's voice. "Unless, of course, it would prefer to demonstrate how a hanyo manages to transform into a youkai. If it can."

Inuyasha winced. He could just imagine why his brother would want to watch him transform. As if he needed further humiliation. "So what I am supposed to eat--grass--?--oh." Too late, he realized that he was smelling fish, and a quick glance discovered a fish less than an armlength away, its scales still wet. "Shit," he grumbled to himself. For a moment, he entertained the notion of asking Sesshomaru why he hadn't bothered to cook it, but then decided against trying to match wits against his brother. He couldn't win. Not now. If he tried to be defiant, tried to defy his brother's threat, he would risk losing himself, with no way to come back. He didn't want to become mindless, didn't want to become that monster he only remembered in a few fleeting flickers of memory.

Tiredly, he pushed himself back into a seated position, then reached out and grabbed the fish. Running a claw along its belly, he disemboweled it, then tore it apart and began to eat it, scale, bones and all. It wasn't the first time he'd eaten fish raw, after all. Finishing it, he went back to his hands and knees, crawling to the bank, then dipping up double-handfuls of water to drink. Thirst satisfied, his water-logged ears made their condition known, and canine instincts abruptly moved to the fore and sent his body into a vigorous shake, spraying water several lengths in all diretions. That action took what little energy he had left, and he dropped into his familiar four-point poisiton; knees up, hands resting on the ground between his feet, claws digging into the dirt. He stared dully at the ground just in front of his claws, vainly wishing that he had the energy and courage to snarl defiance at the insufferable, disdainful being that was his half-brother. But all he could manage was to point one ear in the youkai's direction, and manage a rude but dispirited question.

"So what the fuck do you want to know, bastard?"


	5. Brooding

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Blood Unbound, Part IV: Brooding**

_"Yasuo-dono and I had a long conversation last night about your and the hanyo's problems. You told me that he had been willing to become human, to help purify the Shikon No Tama. That option is gone, of course, but I'm positive that I have heard —or read somewhere—of purification spells that could permanently drive the youkai blood out of a being with mixed blood. I intend to search for such a spell, and if I find one, I will return to you with it, and bless both of you at your wedding."_

Kikyo stared out at the river, still feeling stunned by Miyatsu's words to her. They had been totally unexpected. When he had made his polite farewells, she had barely managed to answer, and didn't remember a moment later if she'd even managed to be polite. She didn't know how long it was before her thoughts began to reach beyond her initial numbness, except that no one had tried to disturb her. Her first reaction beyond the stunned shock had been a flash of anger--how dared the monk discuss her future with the headman? Practicality faded the flash to mere annoyance: she could not have expected anything else. The monk had worked with her for over a week in fairly intimate circumstances: that alone would have led Yasuo to speak to the monk about their relationship. She had no relatives--save her younger sister--in the village: that left Yasuo with the responsibility for her future, if and when she gave up her role as miko. And Yasuo knew more than anyone else about the details of her relationship with Inuyasha, because of their talk last moon-cycle.

She supposed she ought to be glad that the monk had no intentions of trying to pursue his attraction--if he had, in fact, felt such--towards her. And be even gladder, that he would go so far as to bless her marriage to Inuyasha, under any circumstances. But, a spell to turn Inuyasha human? Did one really exist?

Kikyo closed her eyes. Was it less than a moon cycle, since that battle with the demon swarm that had left Kaede blind in one eye, and left her despairing about the seemingly never-ending fight to protect the Shikon No Tama? She had felt so horrified, and so ashamed, to have let her little sister be so violently wounded in a battle she should never have been part of. It was as if Kaede's injury had somehow fully awoken her to just how dangerous her life was. She had always known how dangerous it was, how apt she was to die in the role her abilities had put her in. But it was as if she hadn't known. Not really. That her sister could die. That her friends could die. That she herself could die--never touched, never loved, never getting to know, to experience what other young women did.

And she'd wondered if Inuyasha hadn't felt the same. She had remembered looking back, as she followed the men carrying the wounded, to see Inuyasha standing alone, his head bent, shoulders slumped, his hair and robes coated with youkai remains, his hands dripping. He had fought with and beside the men--as she learned later, he had been the one to warn the villagers of the oncoming swarm and to rally them to the village's defense. Yet, went the battle was done, the men had--left him. She had been busy checking Kaede and the other wounded, so she didn't know if anyone had asked how he was, or thanked him: but somehow, she doubted they had. He had looked so alone, so tired. She had actually started towards him, thinking to ask, when he had looked up at her, and given the slightest possible shake to his head. Their eyes had met, and she had seen--what had she seen? Even now, she wasn't sure. But a moment later, he had broken that gaze, leaping away, off to clean himself, take care of himself--alone. Because of what he was.

That night, listening to her little sister whimpering in pain, unable to sleep herself for her own misery and guilt, she had desperately cast about in her mind for a way out of the never ending battle, a way to end the jewel's existence forever. At some point, she had remembered that last moment with Inuyasha, and had thought, _If he was human, he wouldn't have been left standing alone. If he was human, he would have been thanked; been invited for a bath, for food; would have been asked if he were wounded, if he needed anything. If only he were human--_

If he were human. That was the moment of revelation, of the realization of a way to rid the world of the Shikon No Tama. Her powers of purification, together with a being whose soul echoed the makeup of the jewel. Half human. Half youkai. Add a wish to be rid of the half-youkai soul, the half-youkai blood. Not for any cause of gain, but a wish of purity--to be human. To wish for power on the jewel was to give it power. To wish for purity, to turn away from power, to wish simply for humanity--purify and banish the youkai in the flesh, purify and banish it in the jewel.

And, surely, it was not selfish to wish the battle over? To wish that youkai not be so driven to seek out the jewel, in effect seeking out their deaths? Would not the youkai world, as well as the human world, be better for the dissolution of the Shikon No Tama? If she could put down her bow at last, would that not be a good thing? Not to have youkai blood on her hands anymore? And if, as a consequence, she could be free to choose a new path, a path that included a human Inuyasha, would that not be a good thing?

She had gone to sleep, finally, content in having an answer to her terrible dilemna. The next day, at daybreak, she had gone to their meeting place, spoken of her idea to purify the jewel. And he had agreed to think about it. She had found an excuse for them to be alone, taking a boat downstream to check to see if the demon swarm had caused damage elsewhere. Though her hope that they might talk had not panned out, there had been something comfortable just in being together. And after he had announced his decision, and they had walked back to her hut, side be side, she had felt--happy. Relieved. And hopeful, that she could finally look beyond her immediate duty; could have hope of a real future, of a future where she wouldn't be forced to be apart, alone, _different._ Marriage, children; to be like all the other young women in the village...

Kikyo sighed and lowered her gaze to her folded hands. Their hopes of the evening were destroyed that next day by the shape-shifting merge-demon. She still found it a little hard to believe that a mere hanyo had somehow managed to destroy the Shikon No Tama, but the depth of his compassion and his strength of will had astonished and humbled her. As did his willingness to trust her, after she had so nearly killed him. His impatience and bad language and manners were annoying, but she supposed she could learn to live with the one, and time and encouragement could surely take care of the latter.

Marriage, though. Was it truly an option for them, if Miyatsu could find a permanent spell? Tsubaki's actions were a reminder that there was no one else in the village capable of protecting the village as she could. Kaede had promise, though not to her own level, but it would be years before she was trained and capable. Of course, most villages did not have the comfort of the kind of protection she could offer, and they still survived.

Mostly.

So was it really right to think about giving up her responsibilities? Hadn't she already told Inuyasha that she couldn't? In a world with youkai and dark mikos, priests and monks, was she doomed to eschew the side of her that wanted marriage and children, that craved normality?

"Sister, Satsuki says if you're going to brood, you might was well do something useful at the same time."

Kikyo started, whipping her head around to stare at Kaede, who was grinning at her. "Who says I'm brooding?" she demanded defensively. "I was just--"

"Brooding," Kaede interrupted her cheerfully. "Here." She set the large basket in front of the bench, then took a smaller basket nestled on the top of clothing in the larger basket, and set it on the bench itself. "Satsuki says you can mend these clothes, and when that's done, give her a call. I'm off to go help weeding."

Feeling the ache in her broken leg, Kikyo looked away, reminded again of her immobility. She'd never been fond of sewing, though she'd learned early at her mother's knee, as most girls did. If it wasn't for her leg, she'd be out in the fields, gathering wild herbs for cooking and healing, and scouting for trouble. Not sitting here, barely able to move a few lengths with the aid of a staff, forced to depend on others.

"At least that houshi's gone," said Kaede. Kikyo looked back at her younger sister, startled by the edge of animosity.

"You didn't like him?"

"What kind of houshi can't hardly keep his hands off women?" the girl demanded crossly, scowling. "And making all those little speeches, about how pretty or clever someone is? He's disgusting!"

"He's very powerful and skilled, and a good man," said Kikyo, trying not to feel defensive. "None of us might have survived Tsubaki, without him."

Kaede snorted. "Maybe so, but I'll still be happy if I never see him again."

"Then you'll be disappointed. He said he'll be back, when he finds the spell he's going to look for."

"What kind of spell?"

Kikyo opened her mouth to explain, then found herself hesitating. She hadn't told her sister about the original plan to use the Shikon No Tama to turn Inuyasha human. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell her about the spell now. "Just--a spell."

The girl scowled at her. "What kind of spell?" Kikyo started to look away. "Sister..."

The edge of anger and hurt broke her intent not to say. Until she had come up with the plan to use the Shikon No Tama, she had almost never hidden anything from her younger sister, who sometimes appeared to possess an much older soul than herself. "A spell to turn Inu--a hanyo human."

"What?!" yelped her sister. "You want to turn Inuyasha--human?! Why?"

Flushing a little, Kikyo made herself look up at her sister. "He had agreed to wish to be human, to purify and dissolve the Shikon No Tama," she said. "It seemed the best way. Now ... well, you've heard what almost happened when he lost control of his youkai blood. If he's human, he wouldn't have to be afraid of that happening again."

"But you'd be changing everything that makes him Inuyasha!" Kaede exclaimed, staring at her with an expression bordering on horror. "You can't do that!"

"He agreed to it," replied Kikyo. "It was the only way I could think of, to destroy the Shikon No Tama."

"It wouldn't have worked! It's stupid! If he'd been human, how would he have saved me from that centipede youkai?" asked Kaede. "How would he have helped you take out that foreign youkai last winter? Or the swarm?"

"I know that." Kikyo tried to give her sister a stern look, despite the sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. "But it's still a choice I want to give him--he's so alone, as a hanyo. And he was so horrified, when he learned what he'd nearly done. He'd be better off, as human."

"No!" Kaede glared at her, hands clenched. "It's wrong! Change Inuyasha to human, and you'll destroy everything he is--everything that made you fall in love with him! It's stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! And I'll never forgive you!"

She spun and dashed away. Kikyo watched her go, stunned by her sister's vehemence, remaining motionless for long moments. Eventually, she looked through the small basket for needle and thread, then pulled out the first piece of clothing to mend. She tried to concentrate on her mending, but her mind kept returning to the argument with her sister. To the thought she'd never really considered.

That a hanyo could be accepted by anyone ... as a hanyo?

* * *

Miyatsu moved off the path to follow a creek upstream. Refilling his water bottles, he found a small, sunny meadow, with a fallen tree on one side that made a perfect spot for a luncheon brake. Quickly surveying to make sure that there was no hint of youkai in the area, he settled on the log. Searching through his pack, he soon had a small feast sitting on a square of cotton next to him. 

He took time to appreciate the food, chewing slowly, savoring each bite. The village women had seen to it that he was very well supplied when he left, and it was only just to take time to appreciate their efforts properly. There were a number of women in that village who were both skilled at cooking and winsome. Of course, none of them could approach the cool, unadorned beauty of the miko--

The monk frowned and stopped eating. He didn't want to think about those dark eyes that could look at you so dispassionately, as if she were studying your very soul, or which could also look so sad that it took all one's will not to reach out and take her in his arms, in a desire to comfort. She wasn't his to think about in that way, even if he was looking for a woman, which, as a monk, he was not. That she was easily his equal in power, and strength of will that was probably _more_ than his--no. It was nothing. They were acquaintances--friends. No more than friends. Could not be more than friends. If she left her calling for marriage, it would never be for him. But for that hanyo.

A hanyo. Miyatsu turned his half-eaten rice ball in his hand. A hanyo, he had been taught, and always accepted, was an abomination, a monster; the result of a disgusting and illicit union between human and youkai. For a woman to be taken against her will by a youkai was shameful: let it be a willing act, and the woman's soul was blackened beyond saving. For a woman to compound her shame by actually birthing the result of such joining--a quick death was only mercy. As for the soulless, abomination she birthed--

Yet, thought Miyatsu, one hanyo, at least, was not without a soul. That one, long wordless stare, before the hanyo had transferred Kikyo to his arms had proven that. Those golden eyes, under the fringe of white hair, despite their strangeness, had been the eyes of a young man filled with pain and despair. Despite the fact that he had been prepared to kill the hanyo, the half-human boy had willingly given Kikyo over to his care.

Which said things about what he supposedly 'knew.' He would need to meditate on the revelations of the day before, as well as speak with his superiors. For now, however--

A flare of youki had him dropping his food back to the napkin, reaching for his ofuda even as he looked up. A brown, furry youkai with black rings about its tail and bright green eyes arrowed down from the sky. Even as his eyes widened in recognition, the flying youkai dropped to within a human height of the meadow, before disappearing with a loud 'pop', and reappearing as a rather familiar tanuki. "Yukuukuu-chan!" he exclaimed, as she recovered her balance. "What are you doing here?"

Bright black eyes stared at him, tiny, triangular ears on either side of a scarf swiveling to focus on him. "Oh, thank the ancestors; you _are _the Miyatsu-monk!" She ran towards him, plunging to her knees in front of him. "Please, houshi-sama, you must help me! Please say you'll help me!"

"Help you?" Miyatsu stared at the tanuki, whose front paws were clasped together, and who looked on the verge of tears. "If I can, of course I will, Yukuuku-chan. But, what...?"

"It's my mistress!" the tanuki cried. "She hasn't returned! Please, please, please help me find her!"

Miyatsu stared at her with a sense of dismay not quite verging on horror. Her mistress? _Tsubaki?_

What had he done to annoy a kami, to be confronted with this creature, and this task?

* * *

**Author's Notes: **My sincere apologies about taking so long to update this story! (Almost 3 months -- arggh!) And this still isn't the chapter you're probably wating for -- wherein Sesshomaru tries to get some answers from his lowly half-brother. Next time, I promise! (And in less time, too!) 


	6. Answers

**Blood Unbound, Part V: Answers**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Author's note: **Chapter 3 has been updated. Since it leads to this chapter, you may want to re-read it.

* * *

Sesshomaru's indolent pose was just that. Underneath his faintly bored expression, his brain itched and burned with revulsion, disgust, and questions. He had never seen or smelled his brother like this--dispirited, exhausted, and afraid. Inuyasha had never reacted to his presence with anything less than bristling defiance, even at his youngest. Even when beaten to the ground, he had never groveled, never begged. The hanyo's recalcitrance, his refusal to acknowledge his inferiority and abase himself, had always been maddening to the full-blooded youkai. How many times had he imagined the day when he would finally break the filthy-blooded whelp and hear him whimper?

The filth squatted before him, broken. And Sesshomaru felt not a single twinge of satisfaction.

Perhaps, he decided, because _he_ was not the cause of the hanyo's broken spirit. Someone had cheated him of that pleasure. Rage twitched through his nerves as he realized the cause of his discontent. Unable to maintain his pose of indolence, Sesshomaru stood up, his face unmoving, except for a slight increase in the intensity of his gaze. Almost soundlessly, he walked to the edge of the bank, noting absently that one triangular ear tracked his movements. The hanyo remained otherwise unmoving, his head lowered between hunched shoulder blades, the shortened hair gracelessly sticking out in all directions.

"Who did this to you?"

The ears twitched, then lowered. "What difference does it make?" responded the hanyo, with a hint of bitterness. "This is how you want me, isn't it? Groveling?"

A growl slipped out of Sesshomaru's throat without his intending it. "Do not mock this Sesshomaru, _little_ brother. Only this one has the right to break you. Only this one will kill you, when it is time. Now name this impudent being, and where to find it."

The hanyo gave a guttural bark, which might have been meant for laughter. "Tsubaki. In hell."

Sesshomaru found his rage growing. He was not only to have the right to break the insolent hanyo taken away, but the right to exercise his vengeance on the person responsible? "Who killed her?"

"I'm told I did."

The youkai blinked, taken aback. He stared at the huddled figure on the other bank of the river. "Explain."

The hanyo did not respond immediately, long enough that the youkai felt his temper start to rise again. Before he could become annoyed enough to rap out a demand, however, the hanyo sighed. "The dark priestess--she wanted power, wanted the Shikon No Tama. When she learned I'd destroyed it, she captured me. She wanted vengeance ... and she wanted to steal my youki. She ... did things." The shoulders tightened. "I ... tried to escape--I--failed. She ... did..." The hanyo shivered and whimpered. "She did--things--"

"This one is not interested in how a mere mortal broke you," interrupted Sesshomaru, his voice cold. "Tell this Sesshomaru why you think--but do not know--that you killed her."

The hanyo gave a small nod. "We--she took us back to the village. There--there was a fight--Kikyo, and a houshi, against Tsubaki. They--fell. I--tried to attack. Almost, got through her shields. She--gutted me. Magic knife--youki, and miko power. I--remember pain. Something--power--reaching into me, tearing me apart. I--was falling. I was--angry. I didn't want--didn't want to die. Every-everything went black. Then red." A shudder went through his body. "I--I don't remember much. Just--just fire. And bliss--nothing but bliss, red--desire--" He shivered again. "I remember--she called to me--Kikyo. I--I ran towards her, I wanted--I wanted ... and then she shot me--sacred arrow--and then, I woke up, I was inside a barrier, and she told me--I'd--I'd turned youkai. Transformed. No-no human in me. Only youkai. Only wanting to kill. She said, I--it--killed Tsubaki, one blow. And laughed. It was going to kill the villagers. And it laughed--

"It laughed!" Inuyasha's voice rose abruptly to a scream, and he crumpled forward onto his knees, hands flying up to dig into his skull. "I don't remember, but I can feel it! I can feel it! It wants to take me over and kill and kill and I won't let it! I won't let it, but you come close and it rises and I almost lost and please go away, Sesshomaru, I don't want to lose, please go away!"

Without thinking, Sesshomaru once again stepped back, startled and even uneasy. Stilling himself, eyes closing, he gave himself to his senses, breathing in and feeling every nuance of his brother's aura, comparing and contrasting with earlier, with those elusive scents that had brought him close enough to sense the hanyo's panicked run, and with older memories, of other times when they had met. He could feel it--the hanyo's youki shifting restlessly, smoldering with incipient bloodlust. The hanyo's youki level had always varied slightly with his mood, rising when he was angriest or most defensive. But it had always been a subdued, faint shifting, too diluted by human blood to have any real power. But this--this was different. This was--

An unwilling shiver went down Sesshomaru's spine. The hanyo had their mutual father's blood--_taiyoukai_ blood. Always before, that blood had seemed only a weakened, poisoned shadow of the strength a true taiyoukai held. But now--it held the tang of pure blood. And of a potential held in check only by the will of a broken, terrified half-human.

Sesshomaru realized that he didn't know what he should do.

He turned and started to walk away, deciding that he didn't have to do anything. The hanyo's problem was the hanyo's to resolve. Let him go wild or die--what difference did it make?

His feet insisted on halting, as a most unusual and uncomfortable tumult rose in his thoughts.

It was his _father's_ blood that was threatening to overcome the hanyo, argued one part of him. Shameful enough that that blood had been mingled with human to create the hanyo--the spectacle of it turning the hanyo into a mindless killer--assuming the boy was correct in his fears--no. Never.

Better to kill the hanyo, to avoid that shame.

Another part of his mind objected, raising the image of that shivering wreck of a hanyo. Disgust flared. Kill this weak, broken half-brother of his? Inuyasha's death was fated to be at his hand, but not like this. Inuyasha would go down in a fair fight, at his full strength, proving forever that the hanyo was less than the youkai. To kill the beaten down, half-starved, exhausted hanyo--it was beneath him.

Assuming that the hanyo didn't turn full youkai and kill him first.

Sesshomaru didn't know where that particular thought came from, or the very tiny tweak of fear that accompanied it. He felt it, for the briefest of astonished moments, before trying to thrust it away from him with a surge of pure rage. But the thoughts were running quicksilver through his mind, refusing to be subdued. Just how powerful would a transformed Inuyasha be? Surely nowhere near as powerful as their father. And yet, _he_ was not as powerful as his father. He had been searching for his father's Tessaiga for decades, knowing that the Inu No Taisho had put much of his strength into that blade before he died. He needed that sword to become as powerful as his father, and then one day surpass him. Nevertheless, even without the sword, he was surely stronger than even a transformed hanyo.

And yet--

_Ignore him._No.  
_  
Kill him. _No.  
_  
Help him._

Help him? Help that--_thing--_that dirty-blooded hanyo whose very existence was an insult to his blood, his pride? Help the wretch that had broken under the efforts of a mere mortal? The taiyoukai Sesshomaru, the inu youkai destined to one day outdo his father as the greatest taiyoukai walking the land, condescend to help a mere half-breed?

He wanted to walk away. But his feet refused to move. For a moment, his eyes flashed with his rage, the only outward sign of the fury within.

And then, Sesshomaru turned around.


	7. Go and Return

**Blood Unbound, Part VI: Go and Return**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

Inuyasha panted and shook as he fought down the fire in his blood. He refused to turn youkai! Not the kind of youkai Kikyo had described; not the kind of mindless killer he could almost, but not quite remember. He wanted—he wanted to be himself! But—kami!—why did Sesshomaru have to find him like this? So afraid, so terrified of himself, whimpering, shaking, a whipped dog, his brother must despite him utterly, a cowardly, wretched cur that deserved to be walked on in utter contempt, a thing that deserved all the scorn, all the disgust, all the hatred, all the beatings and whippings and pain he and every other being in the world had inflicted on him all his life. How could he have ever thought he deserved any better, he was a hanyo, a nothing, ugly, despised, worthless, degraded, sick, twisted, abhorrent—

"Go to Bokuseno."

The mental tirade came to a halt as Inuyasha's eyes snapped open wide in shock. His brother's voice came again, dispassionate and uncaring in tone, yet imparting information. "West by south, a mountain with three waterfalls on the south side that merge into a single river. Follow the river to the forest. If he chooses, you fill find him."

Inuyasha whipped around, to see his brother walking away. "Wait!" he cried. "What are you talking about? Are you trying to help me—why? And who is this Bokuseno, why should I go to him, what is he—a youkai, a hermit—what?"

"A two-thousand year old magnolia."

Sesshomaru vanished. Inuyasha sank to a seated position, staring across the river to the woods where his brother had disappeared. For a long time, he was unable to do anything else, his mind reeling with the totally unexpected concept of his brother giving him advice. Totally confusing and uninformative advice, yet words offered without the usual sneering insults, or accompanied by the rake of poison claws or hammer blows of fists. What had happened to his brother, to make him do such an un-Sesshomaru thing?

Looking away, finally, Inuyasha dragged the back of his hand across his eyes, before reaching up to ease a itch on his temple. Claws snagged in his hair, and he withdrew his hand to look at his ragged, broken claws, which were tipped with dried blood. He grimaced a little, remembering his panic and the hateful voice shouting in his head. No, nothing had happened to Sesshomaru—it was himself that had changed. To a whimpering, groveling, trembling—

Shut up, he told the voice, forcing himself to get to his feet. He staggered, swaying, his knees threatening to buckle, his head not quite spinning. Slowly, his legs decided to hold him up, and he looked around, realizing that he was utterly exhausted. He needed food, and shelter. Sniffing, he slowly turned around, surveying his location. To his surprise, he realized that his brother had dropped him off—whether by intent or accident—in as good a location as could be hoped for. A meadow edged by bushes was close by—he could smell the sun-warmed scents of berries and early-season fruit, as well as make out the scents of several types of plants with edible roots. Even closer, in the bush-covered slope north of him, he could sense a cave. And he could smell no hint of youkai, nor of any large, mortal predator, though the scents of smaller animals abounded. He would be able to eat, even sleep in relative safety.

Sesshomaru couldn't be this considerate, could he?

His ears twitched. Inuyasha winced as his right ear pulsed with pain. Reaching up, he gingerly examined the damaged ear with his fingertips, remembering the way Sesshomaru had dragged his claw through the sensitive flesh. His dunk in the water had washed away the surface poison, but not before the damage had been done. It was going to take days to heal. The hanyo muttered the vilest description of his half-brother that he could think of, reaching up with both hands to press against his aching temples. No, Sesshomaru wasn't showing any sudden brotherly concern or kindness. It was as the taiyoukai had said—no one was going to break Inuyasha, save himself. Since someone already had, clearly, Sesshomaru's only option was to manipulate the situation to make Inuyasha better, so that he could then have the privilege of breaking his reviled half-brother all over again. Nope. No kindness there.

Inuyasha muttered another epithet, walking—limping, really, as muscles cramped—slowly over to the nearest bush that might have ripened berries. There were, and he began to pick them off, scaring off the birds which had been feasting, his ears and nose on alert as always. He'd eat lightly; find a tall tree to nap in (despite the lure of the cave), and then wake up to hunt before dark. In the morning, after more sleep, he would decide what to do.

Except, of course, he reflected later as he settled onto a branch, he was kidding himself. He didn't have a real choice. He couldn't risk going back to Kikyo and the village: he couldn't risk transforming and killing them, rosary or no. Ignoring his brother's advice would gain him nothing. Sooner or later, he'd be cornered, and he'd lose control. So, he might as well search out this 'Bokuseno', whatever reason Sesshomaru had for directing him to a magnolia tree. He could not imagine what a tree could to or say to help an inu hanyo, but what did he have to lose?

Exhaustion tried to drag him down into sleep, which reluctantly, he allowed. But on the verge of sleep, a thought struck him, jolting him awake awhile longer.

2000 years. Inuyasha didn't know just how old his brother was, but he knew it was nowhere close to that age. Bokuseno might or might not be a friend of Sesshomaru's, but one thing certain: he was much his elder. But that meant—

_Could Bokuseno have known his father?_

-----------------

Miyatsu gathered his thoughts and his resolution as he continued to stare at the kneeling tanuki, deciding that there was no real way to soften the blow. "Yukuuku-san, I'm sorry. Tsubaki was killed that morning, after you left. We fought against her—myself, another miko, and that hanyo—and nearly lost. But the hanyo killed her after she thought she had killed him."

The tanuki whimpered, eyes starting to fill with tears. "Oh, no, my mistress, my poor mistress! I warned her about the hanyo, I told her he was a monster, I told her! Oh, my poor mistress!"

Hiding a grimace, the monk reached out and patted the tanuki's shoulder. "I mourn with you, Yukuuku-san. Tsubaki was a beautiful woman with strong spiritual powers: powers she could have used for much good. But, we cannot forget that she chose her path, seeking power for her own ends, and it is that which brought her to her end."

"But she saved my life!" wailed the tanuki. "She saved my life, and that horrible monster killed her!"

Miyatsu sighed and patted her shoulder again, as the tanuki sobbed wildly. Waiting until the volume of her cries faded, and trying not to think how much like a child she sounded, he said quietly, "Is that when she asked you to serve her?"

The tanuki started, and looked up with indignation through the tears soaking her masked face. "No! She didn't even wait for thanks! She left, and it was moons later, I found her, weak and hurting, from a duel with an evil miko, I took care of her, I owed her, she never asked me!"

"It pleases me to know that Tsubaki-sama was not entirely lost to good," said Miyatsu, deciding that there was no need to try and correct the tanuki's understanding of the cause of the fight between the two women. "Would you pray at her grave? I can take you there—poor recompense for your help that it is."

The green eyes widened, then shimmered with fresh tears. "I-I—oh, yes. Please. I—please."

Folding the napkin around the remainder of his lunch, Miyatsu quickly placed it in his pack. "Come. I will walk with you."

She rose as he did, and followed him as he turned back towards the village. They walked in silence, save for an occasional sniffle, and Miyatsu mused over the turn that his life had taken, to have attempted to help a hanyo, and to walk a trail with a youkai trailing behind.

He wondered if his sensei and his peers would ever believe him.

-----------------

Yasuo was discussing the state of one of the upland fields with two of the older farmers when a youngster came pelting up to them. "Headman! Headman!" he yelled as the trio turned at his approach. "The hoshi! He's returned! With a youkai!"

"What?!" exclaimed one of the two farmers. "Youkai!?"

"What kind of a youkai?" asked Yasuo quietly.

"Um... ah...well," stumbled the youngster, "it was dressed, kind of like a woman, with a scarf, and ah, a face kind of like a dog, but with a mask. And a tail—yeah—brown tail, with rings."

"Tanuki," guessed one of the men. "Pretty harmless."

"Harmless?" growled the other. "Bad enough that our miko expects us to tolerate a hanyo, but now that hoshi returns with a youkai? What does he think we are?"

Yasuo sighed, mentally bidding farewell to a quiet evening. "Where was the hoshi, Goro?" he asked the skinny boy, who was still panting from his run.

"In the river meadow," he said. "Yoshi saw him first, and told me to run and warn you."

The headman flicked at glance at the lowering sun. "I'd better get back." Turning his gaze back to the farmers, he continued, "Go ahead and ask her, but remember that she's still not able to get around very well." He returned his gaze to the boy. "Goro, run down to the meadow and inform the hoshi that I would welcome his presence in my house for a meal, but only if his companion does not object to staying outside the village."

The boy swallowed, paling. "You-you want me t-to talk t-to a y-youkai?"

Yasuo swallowed a sigh, knowing that Goro was not one of the village's brighter youths. "No, Goro," he said patiently, "I want you to talk to the hoshi. Tell him what I said. You do not need to say anything to the youkai."

The youngster still hesitated. "Boy, the only reason you might have to fear a tanuki is if she decided you were needing some help with girls—and you're not quite old enough for that yet," said the farmer who had identified the youkai. "Especially with the hoshi around. Now you heard the headman—get going."

The boy, flushing, turned and fled. "You are going to ask that hoshi what he thinks he's up to?" asked the second farmer.

"Of course, Tadao" replied Yasuo, refusing to be ruffled by the older man's angry tone. Tadao's daughter had been the woman that Inuyasha had come so perilously close to killing, before Kikyo distracted him, and he had lost two brothers and a nephew four years before to an apparent youkai attack. "I expect that he has a good reason for returning so quickly, and I do not expect him to try and bring the youkai into the village." He gave Tadao a long look, meeting his eyes, until the farmer looked away. "Is there anything else you need to discuss?" he asked, including both in his question. "Otherwise, let's head back down."

Both men shook their heads, and Yasuo turned and walked towards the path that would lead down to the village. Yasuo kept his face imperturbable, but inside, he was worried. The men might not have recognized the description, but Yasuo was certain that the youkai was the one who had brought Miyatsu to the scene with the dark miko and the spell-changed hanyo. He had been watching Inuyasha as the hanyo shook off the effects of the broken spell, but he had also heard every word of the brief conversation between youkai and miko. Yasuo had wanted to know about the connection between miko, tanuki, and hoshi, but given the exhaustion of the two humans after the fight, and the tension between them, over what to do about the transformed and sealed Inuyasha, he had refrained from asking. He had been relieved when Miyatsu had decided to leave, and not merely because the hoshi was, in his opinion, being a little too friendly with the younger women. Miyatsu could be very charming, and was uncomfortably clever at getting people to confide in him. Yasuo hadn't intended to be as open about his concerns for Kikyo's future as he had been. It might very well turn out for the good, if Miyatsu could in fact find a way to turn the hanyo human, since that was apparently what they both wanted. But still, he had not intended to be that open with a wandering monk. He only hoped that the hoshi kept his word and did not spread rumors about the pair. For the village's sake, as well as their own.

-----------------

Kikyo kept her eyes on her meal as Yasuo, Miyatsu, and Satsuki's three sons engaged in light, inconsequential conversation in the adjoining room. Her leg, despite all the pain-numbing tea, was a throbbing inhibitor of appetite, but she did not dare dose herself with anything stronger. She knew that her sister was watching her, and Satsuki had conveyed her own concern with a light touch on the shoulder, as she moved about serving the men and her two female guests.

She wanted to know why the hoshi had come back so quickly, and with a tanuki, no less. Surely it had nothing to do with his promise—he could not possibly have gotten to his temple, found a solution, and returned, all in one day. And what was he doing with a youkai? And why did she feel almost angry at his presence? Why did she not want him back?

Satsuki removed the dishes, only a small sigh revealing her concern about Kikyo's lack of appetite. She cleared the dishes from the other room as well, and Kikyo could hear the three men take their leave. Satsuki and Kaede left for the back area of the house, leaving her alone, but not for long. With a scrape of wood on wood, the shoji separating the rooms opened.

"Miko-sama," said Yasuo formally, "I hope you do not mind if we join you, while houshi-sama informs us the reason for his return?"

Looking up, she managed a smile at the headman. "I am quite curious myself, Yasuo-sama, thank-you." She made herself look at the monk. "Miyatsu-sama."

"Kikyo-sama," he replied, with what suspiciously looked like a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The two men seated themselves, despite the fact that it left them at a lower eye-level, given her position sitting on a rolled futon. "I hope you are not wondering if I have returned because I have found the answer to that small promise I made to you, just this morning."

Despite herself, she found herself smiling a little. "No, houshi-sama, I am not wondering. If you are truly capable of traveling to your temple, discovering and mastering an obscure spell, and returning, all in one day, then how could you possibly have managed to lose to a mere dark miko—twice?"

He laughed openly. "Ah, my dear miko-sama! Have I not told you of my deadly weakness—the glance of a beautiful woman?" His humor disappeared as he shook his head. "But, truly, I had no plan to return so quickly. The only reason I returned to this area is because of the tanuki, Yukuuku."

"You'll explain that, I hope," said Yasuo, with just an edge of coolness in his voice.

Miyatsu looked at him, and nodded soberly. "I had no intention of bringing her into the village itself, headman," he said. "Nor, I think, would she have wanted to enter—she seems a fairly timid creature, at heart. And naïve, in all truth." He grimaced a little. "I tricked her into bringing me here in time to intervene in Tsubaki's plans—perhaps that is why I was so quick to decide as I did." He paused. "She wanted to pray at Tsubaki's grave."

Kikyo stiffened. "Why would she want to do that?" she demanded.

Miyatsu explained. Kikyo listened in growing surprise, shocked to think that the vain, selfish Tsubaki would ever even think of helping anyone, let alone a mere youkai. And able to win someone's loyalty? But as she listened, another thought came to her. When Miyatsu had finished his story, and before Yasuo could say a word, she interrupted.

"I want to speak with her."

"What?"

"I want to speak with her."

Miyatsu have her a confused look, as did the headman. "Why?" he asked. "She's only a tanuki. She hasn't done anything wrong."

"I'm not saying she did," snapped Kikyo, trying to keep herself from curling her hands into fists. "But I have to speak with her."

"But, why?"

Her hands refused to obey her. "I have my reasons," she stated flatly.

Miyatsu looked at her a long time, eyes gradually narrowing in thought. "I believe she was going to stay near the grave. You know I can't bring her here…"

"You can borrow a handcart," said Yasuo, "or ask Kenichi to carry her. But I would like to know why you want to speak with a youkai, miko-sama."

Kikyo dropped her eyes. "I have my reasons," she said stubbornly.

She wouldn't—couldn't—tell them why.

But she had to know.

She had to know what Tsubaki had done to Inuyasha. She had to know what she had done to break him, how she had shattered his pride, his reckless courage. She had to know why he had failed to recognize her at first, why he had bitten her. She had to know what had happened to him, know the things that she knew he would never tell her, even if he returned.

She had to know.


	8. Revelations

**Blood Unbound, Part VII: Revelations**

Miyatsu led the way the next morning, trying not to think of the twinge he had felt when he had watched Kenichi pick up the miko. Breathing in the cool, damp air of the early morning, he tried to focus his thoughts by mentally chanting a set of sutras that were usually efficacious in keeping his mind from straying. The memory of his hand on her thigh flickered across his mind. As did the memory of the feel of the warm weight in his arms when the hanyo had given her to him. He jerked his thoughts back to where they were supposed to be. The damp dirt of the path was sticking to his sandals and working itself between his toes, he noticed, and the edges of his robes were growing wet from the heavily dewed grasses he was walking past. It reminded him of that equally dew-dampened morning camped out with the miko-sama, when his faulty memory of the path to the brook, in the dark, had led to a trip and fall that left him sopping wet from the elbows and the thighs down. She had given him such a lovely smile at his attempt at self-deprecation, and had then insisted on brewing a special cup of tea sweetened with honey. A lovely, talented woman—

"What is she doing?"

Miyatsu almost started at the soft voice, as it jerked him out of his musings. "What?" He looked around quickly, trying to orient himself. He spotted Yukuuku kneeling next to the small grave at the far edge of the meadow, that was surrounded by a squared line of folded prayer papers. "The tanuki? Praying, it would appear."

"Praying? Youkai pray?"

Kikyo's voice was edged with surprise and discomfort. "A Buddhist temple was built almost directly above her clan's homes many, many years ago," he said, relating a bit of information he had gleaned during yesterday's walk back to the village. "When some of the tanukis sneaked into the grounds during the construction, hoping to play tricks and frighten away the humans, they were caught by the abbot. He was a powerful holy man, but instead of purifying them, chose to ask what they wanted. He made an agreement with them, and since then, many tanuki have either served the temple or have tried to follow the eight-fold path. I do not believe that Yukuuku has committed herself to either life, but apparently all of her clan learn some of the principles and rituals."

"Clan." Kikyo's voice was almost a whisper. "When one is fighting youkai, to protect the Shikon No Tama, one doesn't think about them being part of a clan. Or having a family."

"Many don't," he replied. "Many of the lower youkai appear to be born of fears and nightmares, from chaos itself. And they seem to be little more than those nightmares given reality. But the higher orders do breed."

"Yes."

The tanuki made a final bow of her head before standing up. Backing up a step, she looked up and saw the approaching humans. Miyatsu smiled, lifting his hand in a half wave. "Good morning, Yukuuku-san," he called. "I brought a friend along—I hope you do not mind talking with her."

"I—" The tanuki started to reply, then hesitated, visibly sniffing the air. Her green eyes shifted to look behind the monk, widening. "No!" she burst out, taking a step back. "The evil miko!"

------------

Seated on the ground, Kikyo tried to keep from glaring at the trembling tanuki. It had taken considerable persuasion by Miyatsu, and a protective barrier, to persuade the terrified tanuki to venture close enough to hold a conversation. Somewhat grudgingly, Kikyo silently admitted an admiration for the monk's rhetorical skills. It was not a skill she possessed—and was certainly not one she would ever have thought to use with a youkai. Her job was to kill youkai, not talk to them.

Miyatsu caught her attention, giving her a look and a raised eyebrow. Clenching her hands in her lap, willing her face to hide her emotions, Kikyo spoke to the tanuki. "I do not know why you think I am evil, tanuki, but I can assure you that I am not. I have killed youkai who tried to steal the Shikon No Tama, or who have attacked the village or myself. I have no desire or intent to harm you, as long as you offer no harm to humans."

The tanuki would not look at her. "There are occasions when 'evil', as a description, depends on which side is talking," said Miyatsu pleasantly. "Yukuuku-san, I observed that you recognized Kikyo-sama. May I ask how you know her? And why you called her 'evil'?"

The tanuki looked up at him. "M-my m-mistress," she stammered. "She-she made a-a shikigami. I-it looked—and smelled—like her. M-mistress said, she said, the real miko, she killed any youkai th-that came near her. Th-that she kept s-something that — that should have belonged to the mistress. That, that she tried to—to kill the mistress."

"That is a lie, tanuki," said Kikyo, her voice like frozen ice as she struggled with a wave of pure rage. "Tsubaki tried to kill me and steal the Shikon No Tama: I deflected her curse and it went back on her."

"Yukuuku-san speaks of what she was told and what she knows," said Miyatsu with a pacifying gesture. "Tsubaki-sama treated you well, did she not, Yukuuku-san? You told me that she saved you from a trap, and that you, in turn, found her and helped her when she was badly injured."

"Yes." The tanuki was back staring at the ground. Kikyo tried to imagine the vain, arrogant miko ever treating a mere youkai with anything like kindness, and failed. Deciding to ignore that conundrum, and that trying to change the tanuki's opinion of her was not worth the effort, Kikyo concentrated on the important item.

"Tanuki, why did Tsubaki create a duplicate of me?"

"Her name is Yukuuku."

Kikyo glanced at Miyatsu. "What?"

His expression was amiable, except for a flicker of something in his eyes. "Her name is Yukuuku," he repeated. "You desire information from her—surely it is only fair, to be polite?"

Be polite, to a youkai? Kikyo felt a flicker of disgust at the thought, but then, her thoughts hesitated. She remembered the time she had had Inuyasha at the mercy of her bow and arrows, his bristling resentment at being addressed by what he was, not who he was, and her impulsive response, to ask him his name. Of course, Inuyasha _was_ half-human. That made a difference. Didn't it?

Not to most people, she knew. In fact, to many, the hanyo would be lower in status than a youkai like this tanuki, who obviously sought to mimic civilization, while not disguising what she was. And, perhaps, Miyatsu had a point. _Inuyasha_ had not liked being so addressed. She would not, she supposed, care for it either, in a similar situation. Which meant—

Closing her eyes, Kikyo sighed, struggling to lock down her sense of revulsion. Reminding herself that she was doing this for Inuyasha, to learn what had happened to him so she could better have a chance of helping him, Kikyo breathed deeply a second time, and then found her dispassionate center. Opening her eyes again, she looked at the tanuki. "My apologies, Yukuuku-san. The houshi-sama is correct." She saw the black ears twitch, and was reminded of how Inuyasha's ears would also signal when she had said something to startle him or attract his attention. "If you would, Yukuuku-san, what can you tell me about the shikigami that Tsubaki made?"

The tanuki flicked her a nervous glance, looked away, looked back, and then looked down again. Her trembling had lessened, but she fidgeted. "The-the hanyo destroyed her other shikigami," she said slowly. "The little man she called Kuroshin. Mistress—she was—she was angry. Very angry. The hanyo had nearly destroyed the house, trying to escape, and then killed Kuroshin. I-I didn't see that happen—she told me, when, when I c-came to cook."

"You didn't live in her house?" asked Miyatsu, when she paused to take a breath.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed the tanuki, staring at him with astonishment for a moment, before looking back down. "Of course not! Tsubaki-sama didn't want me around all the time—she said sometimes she had to do things that might be dangerous to me, or that she didn't want to be disturbed. I would cook for her, and clean."

"I understand. So, Tsubaki was angry, and she created a new shikigami, that looked and smelled like Kikyo-sama here. What did she do with the it?"

The tanuki's ears lowered. "I-I ... she ... it-it hurt the hanyo. I-I would—I heard him scream. A lot. Once, I was—was bringing some—some food—I-I saw them. Outside. He was, he was naked, except for a collar. She—the shikigami—threw a stick, and he—he was acting like a dog, on all fours, he went and picked it up in his mouth, and brought it back to her. She petted him on the head, and—and then, she—she grew claws and pulled them through his ear. He yelped and leapt back, and I thought he was going to attack—he was snarling, ears back, b-but she—she walked right up to him, and slashed his face, a-and all he did was yelp again and scramble away. Th-then she had a whip, that smelled of poison, and she beat him and beat him, until he collapsed, and then she picked him up, and carried him inside." She shuddered visibly. "All the stories," she whispered, "the hanyo, so strong, killing ogres. And the shikigami beat him, so easily." Her stubby claws dug into the material across her thighs. "Tsubaki-sama said he deserved it, f-for destroying what belonged to her, for killing Kuroshin. Just as, just as—he d-deserved to be raped, f-for w-wanting to love a human woman."

Kikyo clamped her hands over her mouth as her insides felt as if they had been struck with the end of a heavy staff. Raped? Gods—_gods!_ No wonder he had been so terrified of her, when they had been re-united after his kidnapping! No wonder he had bitten her, when she had touched his ear! Her poor, tortured Inuyasha! The fear in his eyes, as he had stared up at her with her bleeding hand between his jaws, the despair he had shown when she had first said they had to try and stop Tsubaki. How he had managed to scrape together enough courage to keep going not once, but twice, she still didn't know. And to do it not just after the agony of physical torture, but the humiliation and degradation of being raped—!

A hand touched her shoulder. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked, lashing out with an arm. She twisted away, trying to get hold of her emotions, tears slipping down her cheeks as rage and horror roiled within. Her lonely, proud, courageous hanyo, broken and humiliated by that—that—_bitch!_ A tinge of shame touched her at the sheer loathing in thought, for as a miko, she was supposed to be above these emotions, this rage, this—_hate_—for another living being. But did that really matter? She didn't have the Shikon no Tama to keep purified, anymore. She could indulge in her anger now. She could hate the dark priestess who had nearly destroyed her love. Couldn't she?

"I'm not like that," she heard Miyatsu say quietly, as he sat down beside her.

She opened her eyes, feeling his quiet aura as its very presence managed to calm hers. "I know," she said, wiping her the tears from her face with her fingers. She turned back, though did not look up to meet his eyes. "I'm—sorry."

The hand on her shoulder offered nothing but silent empathy and companionship. "I sent Yukuuku back to her camp," he said after a while. "I—don't think we need to hear all the details. Not that she knows all of them, anyway."

She shook her head. "She plans to stay here to pray every day for the next seven days," he continued. "I told her we had already done that, but she insisted that our prayers couldn't be effective, and that she owed Tsubaki-sama. I did not argue with her."

Kikyo stared down at her hands. "I want to hate Tsubaki," she said. "If I had known then what she would do, that time when she attacked me, I wouldn't have let her go. I would have killed her, no matter what it did to the Shikon no Tama."

"You will have to give up your hate, to help him."

Kikyo looked up, startled, to meet his storm-blue eyes. "Why?" she asked. "I know it's wrong—but—I'm only human!" She glared down at her fisted hands. "I'm tired of having to be pure. I'm tired of having pretend I'm not human! I'm angry, I hate her for what she did!"

"And if you cannot grow past the rage and hate you feel, then how can you expect him grow past his?" he asked gently. "Anger and hate will not help him accept and put his suffering from him, miko-sama."

She turned her head away, but her shoulders sagged. He squeezed her shoulder gently, before releasing it. "Speaking with the tanuki yesterday has given me another concern," he said after a long silence. "Tsubaki was apparently one for creating set spells for later use. Given her nature, it concerns me that those spells should be left untended. By the time Yukuuku has completed her seven days of prayers, I hope to persuade her to take me to Tsubaki's house."

"Why wait?" Kikyo asked. "Surely you can find it on your own."

"Perhaps. But who knows what traps and hiding spells she may have left? The tanuki was free to come and go, so her path should be safe."

Kikyo nodded at that point, looking back around. "Then I should come, too. Neither of us have her training, so we're more likely to be able to dismantle working together, than just one of us, alone."

"A point, miko-sama, but your leg..."

"I can ask Yasuo for a horse to ride," she pointed out. "Or maybe your tanuki can carry us both, in her flying form? It looked big enough, that time?"

"She is not my tanuki," he pointed out. "But I will ask." Standing up, he stretched his back, then looked around. "Shall I call Kenichi-kun back?" he asked, looking down at her with a slight smile. The young man had been sent back to the village before they had talked with the tanuki. "Or can you trust me to carry you back? Or we could stay a while longer, and enjoy the sun?"

She felt her own mouth twitch. "I should get back—Yasuo wants me to create some protections for the upper fields." She shifted position, pulling her good leg up, and then extending her arms. "Help me up?"

He smiled and grasped her hands, pulling her to her one good foot. He steadied her, then, at her suggestion, helped her onto his back. Clinging to his shoulders, Kikyo decided that this position was better than being carried in someone's arms. But, she resolved to spend more time getting used to that crutch. She wanted to go with him to Tsubaki's hut, if only to have the satisfaction of helping make sure that nothing that woman left behind would ever be used to harm. And she was getting tired of having to depend on someone to move around more than the length of a hut!

It was time to stop being an invalid.

----------------

Sesshomaru drifted through the forest, silent as the fog, pacing his half brother, just far enough away that Inuyasha's duller senses would not detect him. He had paralleled his brother's path for the last two days, since the hanyo taken off from the spot where Sesshomaru had left him. The taiyoukai still could not entirely answer his own question as to why he was shadowing the disheveled, unstable hanyo. It had been mildly amusing to realize that the weak creature had actually taken the advice of someone he despised. And he was still curious, both about what would happen if the hanyo did lose control of his youkai blood, and what advice old Bokuseno would have. But, curiosity was hardly reason enough to spend this much attention on something as disgusting and worthless as that weak, pitiable hanyo. The path he was on, at least, was not that different from the course he would need to take to investigate the rumors coming out of the west. He lost nothing by following a path which just happened to allow him to keep track of the hanyo, as the creature unwittingly headed towards the youkai forest surrounding Bokuseno's location—

The wind shifted. A breeze swirled, faintly colored with familiar olfactory hues. In a moment, Sesshomaru was above the trees, heading away from his brother at full speed, his hair streaming behind him. A black speck in the sky changed course towards him, dipping and wavering. Within moments, Sesshomaru was close enough to see as well as smell the burnt feathers and flesh of the old youkai, and to see Jaken trembling as he clung to the silver hawk's back. The hawk's red eyes met his across the distance, and with a low croak, the youkai struggled visibly to increase the depth of her wing beats. Instead, she faltered, starting to side-slip as her damaged wing failed the match the other. Jaken shrieked in terror as his ride tilted, threatening his one-handed grip. The hawk threw up her head with another cry, managing to level herself and fly straight for one beat; two beats—

Sesshomaru plucked Jaken from the back of the hawk with one hand, ignoring the fresh shriek as he flicked the small youkai behind him and into the path of his fur. The hawk tilted her head slightly, enough to see the youkai above her, and then folded her wings and dropped. Sesshomaru paced her fall as she shimmered and transformed into a human shape, then caught her, avoiding the badly burned arm. He landed gently with the woman in his arms, going to one knee as his mokomoko shook Jaken from itself, before curling into a fluffy pillow for the silver-haired woman. She winced as he lay her down, and then opened her eyes, which were now as silver as her hair. "Forgive me, Sesshomaru-sama," she whispered.

"Shiraumou," he replied shortly. "Explain."

A faint smile touched her lips. "Still an impatient boy, I see."

"You are dying," he observed dispassionately. "If what brought you to me is important to you, words should not be wasted."

"Silly pup," she whispered. Her eyes slid shut, and for a moment, her body stilled, and seemed to nearly become transparent. Then, she forced a breath, her white eyebrows knitting in pain and determination, as she opened her eyes.

"Sesshomaru-sama," she said, her voice stronger. "The panther tribe has invaded. Toran leads them, with her siblings, who have greatly gained in power. I thought to stay above and watch them, but I mistook their strength and their cunning, and her siblings brought me down. They—tortured me, and then let me go. With a message. That since the Inu No Taisho is beyond their reach, they will settle for the people and lands he tried to protect, and the sons he sired."

The taiyoukai gave a soft snort. "It is not possible for them to succeed."

She tried to smile. "I will...convey that...to your father." Her eyes glazed over then, and breath left her. Her body pulsed faintly, then shimmered, growing transparent, and then disappearing. Expression unchanging, Sesshomaru stood up, twitching his fur back to its normal position.

"Ses-sesshomaru-sama?" quavered Jaken, edging forward, both hands wrapped around his staff of two heads. "She found me, and, and insisted I help her find you. I tried to tell her she should rest, but she insisted on flying, to find you as quickly as possible."

"It was her choice," stated Sesshomaru indifferently, looking past the trees surrounding the tiny pocket of meadow towards the lowering sun. A breeze fluttered the leaves and danced with his hair. Sesshomaru ignored it, his thoughts elsewhere.

"Sesshomaru-sama?" Jaken spoke up when the silence had grown too long for his comfort. "Should we not be gathering allies? Shiraumou-sama said the invading tribe was very large and well-armed."

"This Sesshomaru needs no allies."

"But-but what about your brother?" Jaken asked, persisting. "He may be a half-breed, but surely he will want to defend his lord-father's blood!"

Sesshomaru turned and started walking. "The half-breed is not capable of defending anything."

Jaken stared at his master's retreating back, eyes wide and mouth agape. The sentence made no sense to him, having always kept track of the rumors about the younger inu. The killer of ogres, unable to defend anything? But he didn't dare try and get more an explanation from the taiyoukai. He started after his lord, but his steps were slow, and slowed further as the thoughts scurried around in his head. His lord Sesshomaru was a taiyoukai beyond compare. Yet the legend of the panther tribe's ferocity of their last invasion was terrifying, and no youkai was invincible. The silver hawk youkai had been swift and powerful, yet she had been knocked out of the sky and mortally wounded. And the sons of the greatest youkai to live should stand shoulder to shoulder against their father's enemies. Shouldn't they? Mustn't they?

The small youkai made up his mind, and halted. He would find the hanyo, and try to persuade him to join Sesshomaru in his fight. The hanyo would surely be eager to prove himself, to defend his father's legacy. He would persuade the hanyo to stand with his brother, in the epic battle to come. And he, Jaken, would have made it possible.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

Drat. This chapter really did not want to come together. I did not mean to go this long, but a colder, snowier winter than average and a busy work schedule can slow things down. At any rate, the pieces for this story are pretty much gathered, so the action should start to pick up with the next chapter...


	9. The Forest of Youkai

_Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on "Inuyasha", copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._**  
**

**Blood Unbound, Part VIII: The Forest of Youkai**

Inuyasha misjudged the location of the branch. His toes just brushed the bark, and then his shin slammed into the wood. Grabbing a branch to regain his balance, Inuyasha then dropped several layers down, finally seating himself on a thick branch next to the trunk. For several moments he rested, leaning forward on his hands, panting and silently cursing. Catching his breath, he rubbed his aching, burning eyes with one hand, before pulling the lumpy, stained bag off his back. Unfastening the bag he had fashioned out of his inner kimono two days before, he rummaged through it for some time before he remembered that he had eaten the last of the fruit and smoked fish at midday. Ears flagging, he pulled out a handful of roots and glumly began to munch on them. He had hoped to avoid having to hunt before he found Sesshomaru's 'Bokuseno', but that wasn't going to happen. Swallowing the last of the handful, he peered down towards the ground, sniffing. Water nearby—that was good. He could hear the water running—a shallow, swift creek. Not so good. Probably no fish. The air was filled with the usual scent array of small animals—rabbits, mice, squirrels, and birds. Fox. No, _youkai_ fox. An entire family—three cubs, two parents. An ear rotated, catching the susurration of faint, worried whispers. He tensed, sniffing again. Fear was threaded through the family's scents, and Inuyasha pulled himself to a squatting position. Rotating his head, he breathed deeply, lips slightly parted, as he sought the source of what had frightened the kitsune. The scent of youkai was stronger than in the forest near Kikyo's village, but it was mostly small stuff—and dormant. He could sense nothing that he recognized as dangerous to kitsune, let alone him. Yet, his muscles had tightened, and he could feel his youkai blood burning at the back of his mind, yearning for release.

Telling it to shut up, Inuyasha sniffed the air once more, as he shifted the bag to his back, and then dropped silently to the ground. Dismissing the thought of trailing the kitsune and learning what they were fleeing, he made his way to the brook. Tense and wary, he squatted by the water, dipping his left hand into the liquid while his right hand remained tense and ready for use. It was a slow way to obtain a drink, but Inuyasha did not intend to take chances. This was not one of his familiar haunts. This wasn't a forest on the fringe of human civilization, where most of the youkai were more nuisances than dangers. He had detected no evidence of even past human inhabitation in nearly a day. Human ruins were common in most parts of the country he had roamed: perhaps not a surprise when humans faced dangers not only from themselves and dangerous beasts and youkai, but also from the land itself. Inuyasha was capable of detecting ruins even when the only remains were a few decaying boards and a bit or two of rusted metal. But he had scented nothing since early morning. He was in territory that was completely unfamiliar, a place he would have preferred to avoid. The fact that his brother would have killed him himself, if he wanted Inuyasha dead, rather than trick him into heading into dangerous territory for something _else_ to kill him, was the only vaguely comforting thing about his current position. Or, at least, that's what he had been telling himself the last two days—

A leafy tentacle lashed through the space his legs had been a fractional moment before. Inuyasha twisted his leap and slashed back with golden claws, snarling. The tentacle shattered into pieces and then exploded into gouts of poisonous smoke. Swearing silently as he held his breath, Inuyasha kicked off from the nearest branch and leapt upwind, dashing up through the trees as well as across them. Half a dozen trees past his drinking spot, at the top of the canopy, the hanyo paused to look back over his shoulder, panting. Clouds of shouki were drifting upward, far more than what one tentacle could have produced. Inuyasha growled in annoyance and disgust. He'd heard rumors about a kind of youkai plant that could be fairly harmless, unless one damaged it. Then that one and anyone in the immediate area would receive a face full of poison as the aboveground extremities disintegrated into shouki. Drop unconscious or dead, and the youkai plant would then have plenty of time to extrude its feeding roots above the ground and absorb its victims.

It probably would have been smarter not to strike back, Inuyasha conceded to himself as he took a final, measuring glance as the clouds, before looking back ahead of him. Light bounced off distant waterfalls as the setting sun played behind purple streaks of clouds. But he hadn't entirely believed in those rumors, and how was he to know the difference between a normal snake-plant youkai and whatever that thing down there was? That was one reason he avoided youkai forests; he didn't know all the dangers, he didn't need to try and add to the excitement in his life by going through places where even the damned _trees_ hated his half-human blood—

The branch between his feet shivered, though there was no breeze. Inuyasha was in the air before his thoughts recognized the reaction. His jump lofted him above the trees, and he swore as he felt youki starting to billow from around the tree he had just left. He wrenched himself sideways with his own youki, enough to change course for a tree that looked half dead and smelled entirely normal. His foot went through the seemingly solid bark as he came down, and he yelped with pain as a liquid coated his skin and the sole of his foot slashed across the wickedly barbed core. Wrenching himself sideways again, he fell into a twisting dive. He came out of a somersault, kicked off against against a branch of a neighboring tree, then a second and a third, before he shifted his momentum enough to head back towards the canopy. Whip-like branches from another youkai tree lashed out, barely missing him. Already breathing hard, he landed on a tree that seemed safe, but then felt the branch shiver as the first one had, and felt the same flare of youki. He jumped again, giving a flickering thought to heading towards the forest floor, but discarding it before the thought even fully presented itself. Ignoring the pain of his burned and bleeding foot from his mind, Inuyasha pushed himself to his full speed. Inuyasha leapt from one branch to the next, never staying in contact longer than it took to push off again. Every jump was a different direction, in an instinctive effort to confuse any intelligence that might be directing the awakening trees. But his erratic path nevertheless aimed towards the distant falls, the triple falls of his brother's directions. Ears flat against the whistling wind, eyes wide and pupils widening to drink in the fading light, chest heaving as he flung his exhaustion body through the air, Inuyasha leapt to outrace the awakening youkai forest. Trees—even youkai trees—could not move. Could not chase. An inu hanyo ought to be able to outpace the danger from mere trees, no matter how youkai.

But the alarm in a rousing youkai tree, flaring in its youki, spread faster than the wind. The awakening of the youkai forest rippled outward more quickly than he could run. The arousal and alarm spreading from youkai to youkai did not scent of strong danger, which perhaps was enough to save him. But the tree that had drawn his blood sensed its human components, and this youkai forest, of long memory, had no little dislike for all things human. The scent of half-human blood flaring behind him in each drop of red he trailed behind him was a scent to incite rage. Not every tree—not even a majority of trees—was youkai. But enough were. Limber branches whipped about, trying to catch any part of him. Clouds of shouki burst near his presence, forcing him to hold his breath for long moments he couldn't afford. Leaves became weapons, shooting upwards, laced with youki that turned them into razor-edged, steel-stiff darts seeking his flesh, and sometimes finding it.

It could not last. He had slept little since his unsealing, and had not recovered from his long, mindless run even before starting out to find Bokuseno. The waning moon had not yet risen, and scattered clouds obscured part of the starlight. He could see, but not well enough. And despite his will, despite the adrenaline, he was slowing, slowing.

The tree was taller than the others, and seemed quiescent until he was at the apex of his leap. Leaves shot up and sliced through his hakims and his legs, caught and held, their bases, this time, not freed from the tree, but rather trailing thread-thin extensions of their branches. Jerked off his course, Inuyasha twisted and slashed through the threads with his golden claws. A second fusillade, heavier than the first, lashed upwards, and he could not manage to twist far enough away from their path. One, two, a half-dozen snagged cloth or flesh and jerked downwards. He fell, writhing as he struggled to free himself. The threads were not strong enough to resist, but he freed himself just as he slammed into a branch. Pain flashed up his arm, and before he could think, threads were whipping around him, drawing tight about his legs, about his arms, about his neck and head, tightening,threatening—

His blood pulsed and flared. The red fire in the back of his mind blazed with sudden intensity.

And Inuyasha screamed. He didn't want to turn youkai!

Because he _remembered_._ He knew—_

* * *

It had been his first attempt to sleep, napping in the late afternoon, made drowsy from the exhausting run and a full belly. He had found a comfortable branch in a shadowed section of a tree, and nodded off into his usual light doze. Slumbering, he had dreamed. He was standing, filled with a fiery, all-consuming lust and a joyous anticipation. He had cracked his knuckles, feeling the strength and the power in his hands, and had looked at his victim. She had stared at him, her beautiful face white with terror and shock and despair, her clothes drenched in blood, to which a handless wrist was adding. He knew what she was feeling, smelled it in her aura, and it filled him with glee. He drew his long-clawed hand back, then flung it forward.

And to his senses, time slowed to a crawl. He had all the time he needed to drink in her despair, to revel in way she tried to turn her head away and not look, to glory in the power of his body and what it was doing. He saw and felt his physical claws rip—oh, so slowly—through her belly, as his claws of youki slashed through the rest of her merely mortal body, shattering it. He laughed, feeling a rush of exhilaration, of satiation unlike any he had felt before, as he watched the pieces of her body, drenched with blood and stinking of viscera, fall to the ground. The stench of her death was the loveliest odor he had ever smelled. He smirked, pleased with himself, feeling the slick blood on his hand, feeling the heat in his blood, the joy in his heart. Except ... it was fading. Leaving. The death was—disappointing. It—it wasn't enough. He wanted—he wanted—

He whirled at the scream, and saw prey running away from him. Humans, running away in terror! Yes! This was what he needed, he hadn't killed enough; one death wasn't sufficient, he would kill, again and again, drenching his world in blood and death. The prey moved so slowly, and it took only a few leaps to catch up, and he cracked his knuckles again, in greedy anticipation.  
_  
Inuyasha!_ The shout was in his mind, and startled, he whirled to face the source of that shout. And it was she—another like his first kill, glittering with a powerful aura. She called to him, invited him to kill her. He accepted with a greedy chuckle, dashing towards her, eager to experience that heady sensation of killing again. There was pain in her aura, but—a slight disappointment—no fear. But she would die, they would all die, and he would be so full, so full—

An immensely powerful something slammed through his chest, dropping him to his knees. He tried to move, but his arm was so slow. And whiteness, freezing his body like ice though there was no chill, radiated out from that thing through his chest. And he—_  
_  
Woke up, breath gone, staring up at the branch he had fallen from, the nightmare still filling his nostrils with the stench of blood and death. He had been unable to think of anything for several moments, as his body desperately sought to breathe. But then he came fully aware, and realized that it was not a nightmare.

He had turned into a monster. He had believed Kikyo when she told him, when he had woken up, the vague memories telling him that she spoke truth, even more than his nose did. But now, he remembered. Everything. He remembered how he had killed a woman. Deliberately. Viciously. Joyfully.

He had lost the contents of his stomach, then, retching until there was nothing left, his throat raw from bile, and his mind filled with self-loathing. He tried to remind himself that Tsubaki had tortured him and tried to kill him, that she deserved death just as much as all the youkai and human men he had killed in self-defense over the years. But it didn't help; didn't ease the loathing, the sick awareness of how his unbridled youkai self had reveled in killing, of how it would have killed and killed had Kikyo not stopped it. For at least that little time, he hated himself for what he could become, hated and thought that maybe all those would-be killers had had the right of it all along. A monster didn't deserve to live. He had been amonster. And the blood whispering at the back of his mind was the constant reminder that he could become that monster again.

It was late night before he tried to sleep again, after he had caught and smoked a dozen fish, had fashioned a bag out of his inner shirt and filled it with food. Part of him had dreaded sleep, but the other side knew he needed sleep, that his body was tired and needed rest. He fell asleep reminding himself that he could keep the monster from showing up that he had already done it and could keep doing it.

The self-reassurance didn't help. He dreamed again. But, this time, the woman he destroyed was Kikyo. And she begged him not to kill her, begged him to remember that she loved him, and his dream self laughed, and raked his claws through her belly, so slowly—

He woke screaming.

* * *

Inuyasha felt his body pulse with youki as his blood heated. He writhed against his bonds, fighting to free himself, fighting to control himself, to stop the youkai blood from rising. _I won't let you,_ he cried to the fire trying to take over. _I won't become a monster! _But the fire in him didn't listen, and the bonds around his body kept tightening. His fear rose—fear he could no longer mask with bravado or simple, stubborn pride. The youkai tree was trying to kill him, and he couldn't quiet that stubborn part of himself that insisted on living, and his refusal to accept dying was driving his youkai blood hotter and hotter, and he was starting to feel surrounded by fire, clouding his thoughts, driving a hungry desire for blood, for death— 

"Stop it!" he screamed, to himself, to the tree, to both or neither. "I don't want to become youkai! Stop it!"

Something, dark and deep, slow but very strong, whispered across his sweating skin as the tightening threads paused. "Youkai?" rumbled a voice slowly. "Human blood. Human..." Something like a wind swirling through a woody hole sighed. "Humans ... cannot ... turn ... youkai."

Inuyasha gasped as the bonds started to tighten again. "I'm not human!" he cried. "I'm hanyo! Inu hanyo! Let me go—I need to see Bokuseno, I don't want to turn youkai, I don't want to kill you!"

The bonds twitched, loosening a trifle. Inuyasha fought for breath, fighting for sanity. The wind rumbled about him again. "Hanyo," said the voice,musing, sounding vaguely puzzled. "Hanyo ... knows the Bokuseno." The air seemed to hum, considering. Then it darkened. "Half-human. Human blood." A pause. "Die."

The sudden increase in pressure forced a cry out of his throat. The fire in his mind leapt, and despair smothered his thoughts. At least there were no humans around to kill, came a vague thought. And if luck were with him, the forest would destroy him, and he'd never have to face Sesshomaru's scorn for being unable to survive a simple trip through a forest—

Sesshomaru. The reminder of his hated and envied brother brought a spark to his dying self and a flicker of stubborn rage—damn if he would prove his brother's opinion of himself! "Wait!" he managed to cry out against the pressure. "Sesshomaru! You—kill me—he'll destroy you!"

"Sesshomaru?" The voice was clearly startled, as the threads abruptly loosened. "The Sesshomaru? The son of the Inu no Taisho?"

"Yes!" Inuyasha gulped for breath, snarling mentally at the fire to stay back. "He told me to go to Bokuseno!"

A shudder shook his bonds. "The Sesshomaru-sama hates all things human."

Inuyasha found himself close to a laugh, as the conviction that he wasn't going to die—yet—dimmed the fire a little. "And he hates me," he told the youkai. "He hates me so much, that he's sworn that only he gets to kill me." He wheezed a chuckle. "You don't want him angry at you."

The bonds abruptly let go. Inuyasha plunged through the darkness, then slammed into the ground with a grunt of expelled breath. Recovering enough to groan, he rolled on to his side, panting. As his lungs finally decided that they had enough air, he concentrated on his inward self, striving to calm the roiling blood. _Go back to sleep_, he told it. Nothing was threatening him, nothing was going to kill him, and he refused let it turn him into a monster. He had reasons to not want to be a monster, he told himself. Reasons named Kikyo and Kaede, Korana and Yasuo. And for his parents: his mother, his father, who had chosen to bring a hanyo into the world, who had loved him. A spirit had told him he was worthy of love, and he would be damned to hell before he let himself become not worthy. Once was enough—not again, not ever again!

The heat subsided into something he could bear, and Inuyasha opened his eyes, pushing himself to a seated position. His head spun for a brief moment, and he realized that he was drenched with sweat, and shivering. He tried to lever himself to his hands and knees, and a spike of pain flashed up his right leg. He swore to himself, as he realized that the branch he had broken through had bathed his foot not in acid, but poison. Not enough to kill him, he thought, considering himself as another brief surge of dizziness assailed him, but the rest of the night was going to be—uncomfortable.

The second effort to get to his hands and knees was successful, but he decided against trying to get to his feet. He sniffed, but the poison in his body seemed to have eroded his sense of smell. "I don't suppose you would tell me which way to the closest water?" he asked, increasingly thirsty, and wanting badly to sooth his burned skin in cool water, which would also wash away any poison remaining on the surface. Silence answered him. "Nope." Closing his eyes, he sniffed, moving his head slowly. But all he seemed to smell was the poison, his blood and his sweat, and the fog of youki. He tried again, then gritted his teeth as nausea swept through him. Okay, the rest of the night was going to be even more uncomfortable than he thought. Inuyasha considered just dropping down where he was to wait it out. They said trees never forgot, and so he was probably safer under the tree that knew it didn't want to face Sesshomaru's wrath than he would be elsewhere. But, damn, he wanted the water. And what if the tree decided it could keep Sesshomaru from finding out what it did?

He randomly picked a direction and started crawling, deciding that any path would lead him to a stream, or brook, or river sooner or later. He'd crawled perhaps his own length when a tap on his shoulder caused him to whip his head around, ears going flat in instinctive readiness to fight. A yellow-green something flashed around his head from his shoulder, swooping ahead of him about half a length, then dancing in place. It was a leaf, he realized, staring at it. A leaf wreathed in youki, twirling over and over in an almost visible wind.

"Follow," said the deep voice that had spoken earlier. "Follow ... to water."

Inuyasha blinked, surprised. "Keh." He considered, but there no hint of deception in the atmosphere. And, according to stories, trees were straightforward beings, not given to tricks. And, anyway, what did he have to lose by following?

Not much.

"Maybe I won't tell Sesshomaru on you," he said, crawling away, feeling too sick and contrary to be polite to an entity which had tried to kill him.

"Ungrateful hanyo," replied the voice, but with more indifference than any other tone. "Go."

He went.

Slowly.


	10. Flea Affairs

_Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on "Inuyasha", copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._**  
**

**Blood Unbound, Part IX: Flea Affairs**

Long life does not necessarily confer wisdom, but it does allow for the accumulation of knowledge. Myoga knew far more than his diminutive size would suggest, no doubt in part because of his long association with the Inu no Taisho. He had fled Inuyasha after the hot-tempered hanyo had threatened him with a permanent squishing, had he continued to insist that the youngster should leave the Shikon no Tama well enough alone. He had thought, on leaving, to look for evidence to persuade the stubborn hanyo of the incorrectness of his course. But time can escape one as long lived as a flea demon, and distractions can be fatal to timely reactions. The fur of a pretty and amiable fox vixen proved too pleasant a shelter for the winter, and Myoga scarce noticed that spring had long since arrived.

But he did not fail to notice the agitation that swept the forest that night, nor fail to identify its source. Few youkai trees learned the common tongue that both humans and the higher youkai employed. That, however, was no barrier to the flea, who had long since learned to understand the language of trees—among many. He heard the susurration of alarm and rage over the approach of human blood into the forest that had long and bitter memories. The vixen who was his host transformed to her four-legged form and fled to the deepest part of her den, though at least as much in fear of what the trees would do if they became fully aroused in their rage, as to a fear of humans, which she knew of only from tales. Myoga curled up in a snarl in her undercoat, though he was wide- awake and curious about the source of the disturbance. How could a mere human—or humans—have survived past the edge of the youkai forest, let alone manage to do so without triggering any alarms earlier? That puzzled him sorely ... but not enough to make him desire to venture out of his tiny, warm nest.

The sensation of smoldering rage faded abruptly. Myoga was jolted as the vixen sensed the change and abruptly set up. "Myoga ji-chan," she whined softly, "did the trees kill the human?"

He jumped up onto the top of her head, listening with all his senses. "I can't sense any blood-lust," he said finally.

"Maybe we're too far in..." Her ears twitching, making the skin under his feet jump, the vixen stood up on all four feet, walked to the entrance and crawled through it, then began to trot through the narrow corridor. "I think the trees are talking, but I don't know what they're saying. Can you understand them, Miyoga ji-chan?"

The flea had had to wrap all six extremities around short strands to keep his position when the fox started moving. He'd been concentrating more on keeping his position, than what whispers of sound and youki scents were sifting into the back of the den. He tried to listen, but his hearing wasn't as good as the fox's. "Ah, you'll have to take me clåoser to the entrance, dear lady," he said. "Of course, do not feel you have to put yourself in danger on my account."

"Oh, I'm not," she yipped. "But if the trees aren't so angry, then maybe Rikaru Two-Tails will have his training tonight under Takaikatsura after all. I do so want to qualify for the youjutsu exams!"

"I'm sure you are superb at kitsune trickery, Akeneka-chan."

She sighed, her ears drooping. "Not as good as brother," she whined. "I wish he'd come back—I miss him."

Myoga remained silent, recognizing a topic where his words would not help. Akeneka sped up, then slowed down as she came to the entrance. Not quite sticking her nose past the entrance, the kitsune swept her ears forward, sniffing deeply. Myoga strained to listen to what the trees might be saying, his tiny grips tightening. The forest was calming, but the winds churned by the youkai trees were still full of anger and fear. Myoga listened, and then let out an exclamation.

"Myoga ji-chan?"

"Akeneka, I need you to take me towards Takaikatsura, now."

"What?" Her head jerked up, nearly causing him to lose his grip. "Why—well, I was wanting to go, so, okay, but, but is it safe? The human—did they kill it?"

"It wasn't a human," said Myoga, shortly. "Now go."

"I—all right."

Myoga slid down from the top of her head to the back of her neck as the fox left her den and bounded through the night. He burrowed into the longer fur, trembling with shock. What was Inuyasha doing out here? The trees hadn't named him, of course, but there weren't any other inu hanyos, not that Myoga knew. And the ancient tree Takaikatsura himself warning the other trees not to kill the inu hanyo? The forest listened to him, as they did to Bokuseno. The two massive trees would be rivals and perhaps foes, were they not what they were. Separated from each other by considerable distance, with no competition for soil or sun between the two, what would be the point? Trees did not think in those terms, though they respected age and wisdom. But how had Inuyasha gained the tree's protection? Myoga wondered. The old tree had no ties to the inu youkai clan, as did Bokuseno. He should not have cared about the fate of a mere hanyo. So why? What had Inuyasha done? It made no sense. It made no sense!

* * *

Akeneka ran, her way lit by smell and sound, memory and the shifting glints of youki. The young vixen ran at nearly her top speed, with every sense alert. The youkai trees tended to keep the maddest of youkai predators out, those whose mindless rages could threaten the safety of the forest itself. But unless alerted to danger, the youkai trees generally paid little more attention to the day-to-day activities of the forest, than mortal trees did. A young fox, abroad at night, was legitimate prey. Which was part of the enticement of the classes taught by the two-tailed kitsune. She leapt, vaulting above a patch of snake vine. The main vine snapped up its thinner catch cords, but they were too short by the width of her paws. Akeneka flicked her tail in triumph as she landed, pivoting even as she did, to streak down an invisible path for several dozen lengths, before changing course again. Enraged clicking sounded behind her, and the young fox laughed in her heart, rejoicing in her cleverness and her speed. For the moment, she didn't care if she never reached the tree, never reached Rikaru's side. This was what she loved—the wind in her face, in her nose, in her ears; the pounding pulse of her heartbeat and the blurred movement of her legs. This, she could do forever—

The second half of the thought, she kept herself from thinking.

—If only her twin were by her side.

* * *

Inuyasha pulled his off-white kimono out of the water and draped it back across his neck and shoulders. Mopping his sweating face with one sleeve, he dropped his hand to the ground, digging in with both hands as another bout of nausea raked him. He fought off the surge, tight jawed, panting as the urge to retch left him. His foot, sunk as it was in the cold water of the stream, had at least gone numb, but that was the only part of him that was. His head pounded, his eyes burned, and his muscles were all tightly tensed and aching. He desperately wanted to curl up and sleep. And he didn't dare.

His youkai blood was clawing at his mind, demanding release. His youkai blood, unbound, could take care of this poison in a flash. He could feel its strength: he knew—if only from how easily his brother could humiliate him—just how strong the inu-youkai blood in his veins was. But Inuyasha refused its offer. Better to ache and burn while his human-diluted youki healed him slowly, than to turn back into that monster. He wanted no more memories like the one of killing Tsubaki. Not like that, not again.

Shifting his position, straightening as much as his sore midriff allowed him, Inuyasha sniffed, hoping that his sense of smell had come back. It hadn't; he could still only smell the poison. Letting his eyes close, the hanyo concentrated on his ears, listening for any hint of danger. He felt a breath of wind against his face—no, not wind, a bit a youki. He could sense nothing inimical in it, but given his nose, how could he be sure? Opening his eyes, he looked around. The moon was starting to rise, creating dappled light under the trees. Nothing appeared to be moving, save the water in the stream.

A whisper of paws thrumming faintly against the ground came to his working ears. Inuyasha's head snapped around, as he tensed, forgetting his physical misery. He quickly stood, weight on his good foot, crouching a bit, one hand against a sapling for support. Lips peeled back in a silent snarl, he forced down the instinctive urge to seek the foe's scent. He flexed his right hand, cracking his knuckles, preparing his attack, knowing that he would have to take out the danger in one blow. Ears pointed at towards the location of the sound, Inuyasha focused fiercely on the spot where the foe had to appear, arm back, ready to throw his eldritch claws as soon as he had a target.

A shadowy form leapt lightly over a bush. Inuyasha's snarl ripped out of his throat before it had even landed. It started, shying sideways into a patch of moonlight. Kitsune! Inuyasha barely aborted his attack. "Get out of here, kitsune!" he yelled instead, ears flattening as he snarled again. "Any tricks, and I'll slash your throat out!"

The kitsune leapt away, then whirled to face him, ears flattening and head lowering. "N-no! No tricks! I-I don't—didn't—" Her stammering nearly covered up a smaller voice.

"Inuyasha-sama! Inuyasha-sama! Don't!" A dot arched away from the kitsune. "You mustn't attack! Don't attack!"

With a snarl, Inuyasha caught the flea in mid-air. "Why shouldn't I?" he snapped. A barely audible, unintelligible burble came from his fist. Panting against the heightened fire in the back of his mind, the hanyo opened his hand to let the flea out. "And no biting!"

A trembling flea climbed out onto a finger. "Inuyasha-sama, Akeneka-sama is a friend! You mustn't attack her!"

"Th-that's true," said the fox, now crouched so low that her belly fur brushed the grass. "Myoga ji-chan asked me to come this way—said it was important. He said to hurry—I'm sorry—I didn't mean to make you think I was attacking."

The red fire at the back of his mind wanted to squash the impudent flea and soak his claws in the kitsune's blood, but Inuyasha pushed it away and made himself relax. He leaned against the tree, and then doubled up as another spasm of nausea took him. He went to his hands and knees, swearing, and then found himself heaving. His senses hazed as his world shrank to the effort to remove the contents of his already empty stomach. He did not notice anything else until the paroxysm faded, and then found himself being moved to a seated position against the sapling. A slender, cool hand touched his forehead, sliding under his damp bangs.

"Myoga ji-chan, I think he's been poisoned," said a young, female voice. "I can smell it..." The hand left his forehead, and a cloth wiped away the mess on his lower face.

"Hmm ... yes..." Something bit his neck. Inuyasha started to raise his hand to slap away the annoying flea, but found it restrained.

"We need to know what poison it is, my lord," said the female again. "Myoga ji-chan's much better at identifying poisons than I am."

Inuyasha wanted to growl, but his throat hurt too much. Instead, he tried to open his eyes.

A face swam into view, dappled by the moonlight through the leaves. His vision wanted to blur, but he could make out a triangular face with huge, slanted eyes and a pointed chin. Pointed ears peeked out behind locks of hair, cut at chin length, while heavy bangs hid her forehead. It had to be the vixen, he realized, transformed into a human shape. Seeing his eyes open, she smiled at him. "I am Akeneka, my lord. You must be the great Inu No Taisho's son, no?"

He blinked blearily at her, slowly working out how she could possibly know about him. "Myoga talks too much."

She giggled. "He does like to talk, but he can be very entertaining."

Inuyasha snorted. "Not after you've known him—" he broke off abruptly, gritting his teeth, as his stomach rebelled again. He tried to keep it back, but the urge was too strong, and he found himself on hands and knees once again, helplessly retching. He didn't even try to straighten up after the heaving stopped, his mouth tasting of nothing but bile and blood.

"Myoga ji-chan?" asked the vixen. He felt her hands supporting him, and felt entirely too ill to object.

"This is bad," said the flea, his voice coming from very close to his ear. "This is very, very bad. Akeneka -sama, I need you to go run and find those plants you said your mother uses for poisons. Quick!"

"But Myoga ji-chan," she protested, "they won't be strong enough to stop this poison. Aren't you going to—"

"Of course I am!" he interrupted impatiently. "But removing the poison won't be enough—now go, go, go!"

"But—all right—I'll be back as soon as I can."

Inuyasha felt the rush of youki as she transformed and galloped away. Slowly inching himself back towards a kneeling position, Inuyasha kept one ear pricked in her direction, until she could not longer be heard.

"You're a liar, jiji," he said then.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Funny how fictional characters won't behave themselves. I knew Myoga was going to show up, but I didn't know he was bringing along a friend! Sorry to be slow on the updates, but I'm having a bit of trouble plotting this section. As usual, I know where I'm going, but finding out how to get there...

* * *


	11. Confrontations

**Blood Unbound, Part X: Confrontations**

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

His senses were fully alert as he walked through the darkened forest, but his mind was preoccupied as much as he ever allowed it to be. Sesshomaru had more puzzles than usual to work through, which displeased him. After all, his only goal for now and many years past, was to surpass his father's strength. To that end, the re-invasion of the lands by the panthers would at least prove that the Inu no Taisho bloodline had not weakened, though not even total destruction of Toran and her siblings would prove that he was more able than his sire. But the prospect of the fight only reminded him of the most rankling fact of his existence for the last 150 years--Tessaiga.

Tessaiga was missing. The sword that should have come to his hand on his father's death; the sword that could slay a hundred youkai with a single swing; the sword that truly possessed his father's power, that would give him what he needed to surpass his sire: it had vanished along with the Inu no Taisho's body. His father had kept many things from his heir: the location of his sword and his body were not the least of them.

Instead, as if to add insult, he had been left Tensaiga. The blunt-edged blade that was supposed to be able to heal--what did he, Sesshomaru, need with such a blade? A useless memento.

He halted at the edge of the clearing. "Show yourselves, panthers," he said coldly, looking at a tree on the opposite side of the small meadow. "Your stench precedes you."

One of the four youkai he knew were crouching in the trees dropped to the ground, smelling of nervousness, ears flattened, fangs showing in a snarl. The inu youkai regarded him with no outward expression, though his mental lip curled in disdain. The neko and his companions were midlevel youkai at best--man-sized, bipedal, able to speak, but fixed in a single, animalistic form.

As Sesshomaru remained motionless, the cat eased his stance. "My mistress sends a message to the pups of the late Inu no Taisho," he announced. "The time for vengeance for our master's death has come. If the pups of the Inu no Taisho do not face us, they will be hunted down like the cowardly curs they are."

The neko found himself dangling in midair before he quite finished the last word. "The leader of the panthers reveals her foolishness, to challenge this Sesshomaru." His words were cold and toneless, and his wrist stripes appeared as he sank his claws dug into the youkai's neck. The neko screamed in agony as the inu's corrosive poison began to dissolve fur and skin, pouring into his blood. Dropping him, Sesshomaru shifted his gaze to the tree. "Tell you mistress that if she is wise, she will remember the panthers' defeat two centuries ago, and retreat. Unless she wishes to die."

He continued his path, even though it led directly under the tree in which the remaining three youkai were crouching, calmly certain that they would not dare attack. The dying cat's screams faded as the poison ate through his throat, but Sesshomaru could hear and sense the youkai's death convulsions as he faded back through the trees. A slight sense of dissatisfaction edged through his thoughts, for the death he had given the cat was not enough to make up for the torture and death of his father's old friend. He had not seen the silver hawk in many years, but she had been a frequent visitor after his mother had turned him over to his father for training. He had always known that she would be a loyal ally to the Inu no Taisho's heir, had he ever wished to call on her. He hadn't, of course. He needed to prove to the world that he could surpass his father, and he couldn't do that with his father's old allies and friends watching his back.

Not that he would have wanted to choose her for a companion. He did not care to be around someone who had once ruffled his hair, or watched his initial, bumbling attempts to fly...

* * *

Rikaru stalked towards Takaikatsura, twin tails twitching with annoyance. The three brothers behind him were silent, which was wise of them. They had insisted that they all retreat to the deepest part of their communal den, getting in his way and protesting when he would have strolled outside to get a more thorough picture of what was going on. He found it rather difficult to believe their insistence that alarm was being raised over a human invasion. He knew perfectly well, from his own travels to and through this forest, that the closest human habitation was no closer than three days walk from the true edge of the forest, and that none of them were more than terrified refugees from human conflicts clinging to meager existences.

He hesitated as he caught a familiar scent--Akekana. Ears pricking, he shifted course slightly, intending to discover her path. One of the brothers dashed ahead of him, sniffing. "Akekana!" he exclaimed. "What's she doing ahead of us?"

The oldest of the trio jumped forward, turning his head as he sniffed. "Here." He pointed out a thin tree branch dangling over a rather prickly bush. "She jumped the bush and brushed against this. She must have been running." He froze for a moment, before continuing. "I don't smell fear."

Rikaru kept a snarl from his throat at the thought of his Akekana running alone through the recently disturbed forest. "Follow her," he ordered. "I want to know why she's running."

The trio of younger foxes nodded and took off, the eldest dropping to all fours and transforming to his full kitsune shape, before taking the lead. The two-tailed fox followed, hiding his annoyance. He'd been trying to persuade the young vixen to move to a closer den, where he could keep a closer eye on her, but she'd been adamant about staying in her family's den, even though she was now alone. Most of the fox clan had been puzzled at his insistence and had resisted any attempt to get them to urge her to agree. Those who were willing to take his side he had to discourage, as their desire to claim the den--which was, according to everyone--the best one in the area--was in all cases pathetically obvious.

They were close to the giant tree Takaikatsura when a shift in the breeze brought a scent that caused Rikaru to stumble.

"Dog?" exclaimed one of the two kitsunes that were still in their human shapes. "What's an inu-youkai doing out here?"

"What's wrong with it?" asked the other. "It doesn't smell quite right--what's that weird taint?"

"It's been poisoned, but there's more to it than that," answered the first. "Rikaru-sensei, do you know what it is?"

He growled, fighting a flare of rage. "Hanyo."

Eyes rounded. "Hanyo?!"

"Inu-youkai and human," he said, biting off his words. "I know this one. Find him. Now."

"But what about Akekana...?"

"If she finds him first, she's in danger," he snapped. "Go!"

* * *

"You're a liar, jiji."

"I am not a liar!" Myoga bristled, glowering at the arching lines of silver hair surrounding him. Leaping, he fastened onto the end of Inuyasha's nose. "The situation is very, very bad!"

Inuyasha glowered back, going cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the annoying flea. "I'll be better by morning and you know it," he muttered, "So you can just keep your snout to yourself."

Myoga bounced twice, exasperated and impatient. "I'm not talking about the poison and you know it! Or did you really want a gossipy kitsune to hear that the seal on your blood is broken?"

The eyes that filled his vision widened. "Broken--?"

"Broken!" snapped the flea, digging his minuscule claws into the hanyo's skin. "And I want to know why--what did you do?! Tessaiga is supposed to keep your blood sealed, and you think I can't tell that it's taken you over at least once! What have you been up to?!"

"Tessaiga?" echoed Inuyasha slowly. "What's -- Tessaiga?"

_Urk._ Horrified at himself, the flea did the only thing he could think of. Jumping off the boy's nose, he leapt down and plunged his snout into Inuyasha's neck. All six limbs clamped down fiercely as he invoked his magic that even a taiyoukai had been glad to take advantage of a time or two. "Ow!" yelped Inuyasha, as he began to suck. "That hurts!" A hand slapped at him, but the fierce grip and the spell he had invoked made the effort useless. Myoga concentrated on the poison, pulling it from even the farthest reaches of the protesting body. It was foul and bitter, quite overlaying the otherwise juicy tang of the hanyo's blood, but he persisted, his body swelling ever larger, until the taste of poison became no more than an echo. Releasing his hold, he fell away with a groan, his body swollen to half again the size of Inuyasha's fist.

"Damn ... flea..." he heard Inuyasha mutter. He could--somewhat blearily--see the boy glower at him, and then a clawed thumb came down as if to squish him. He tried to roll away from that threatening thumb, but it followed, and then the hand came down and scooped him up. The flea squeaked, peering up nervously as the boy's face loomed closer. "I'll get you later for that, bug," threatened the hanyo, but there was no heat in his voice. Myoga found himself deposited on a patch of soft moss. "Stay put. I don't want to squish you by accident. Make too much of a mess." He moved out of the helpless flea's visual range, and Myoga soon heard water splashing. He would have sighed, if he could. Please let the boy forget what he had said about Tessaiga, he begged any god that might be listening. Please, please, please--

* * *

Inuyasha splashed his face with the water, raking back his shortened hair with his claws, before scooping up water with both hands to rinse out his mouth. He wasn't going to tell the flea, but he was secretly relieved to have Myoga around. Not only was he feeling much better, save for lightheadedness, but also, the flea would hopefully be able to help him avoid trouble, the rest of the way to this Bokuseno. And Myoga clearly had some idea what was going on with his blood--if he could just make the flea talk. This 'Tessaiga' thing, for one. "Iron Crushing Fang"? It sounded like a weapon of some sort--a sword, maybe. But how could a weapon help keep his blood under control? That made no sense.

He spit out the water, then drank some more, relieved to note that his raw throat had already healed. Of course, he was now starving, but he could ignore that. Rinsing out his _hidagi_, he wrung it out, and then set it aside. Unfastening his fire-rat _suikan, _he pulled it off. Picking up the _hadagi_, Inuyasha shook out the off-white material. He grimaced for the dampness, but there was no help for it--

Running paws came to his ears. Jumping to his feet, he whirled, and saw three forms leaping from the shadows straight towards him. He leapt, and then saw--too late--a fourth figure arrowing towards him from the air. He twisted violently, trying to avoid contact. But he could not avoid the sudden puff of smoke. He gagged as the horrific stench burned his nose, before crumpling in midair.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Argh! I can't believe it's been almost six months! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I fear I got a bit sidetracked after discovering the Inuyasha LiveJournal communities with their contests, and I admit I got stuck on the foxes. (They weren't in the original plot for this story. Darn foxes.) I've got to start updating this story a lot faster, or I'll never get it done!

On another note, you may notice use of japanese words in the last few paragraphs referencing Inuyasha's clothing. I'm using http: / hagakureproductions . tripod . com / clothes . htm # inuyasha for a reference. The 'suikan' is his jacket, and the 'hidagi' is his shirt.

(10/11/2008)


	12. Kitsunes

_Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on "Inuyasha", copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Blood Unbound, Part XI: Kitsunes**

Hah! Rikaru grinned savagely as the inu-hanyo fell. Landing lightly on a branch overlooking the stream, the blue-eyes kitsune ignored the youkai owl he startled into flight, smirking as he looked down at his coughing, sneezing companions.

"What is that stench, Rikaru-sensei?" demanded the dark-red haired Masaki, staggering over to drop to his knees by his older brother, who was frantically pawing his muzzle. "Make it go away!"

"It's just an illusion," he said with another smirk. "But you'll need to get that hanyo out of the water and pinned down before I release it."

The young kitsune muttered something under his breath, which sounded like it included "do it yourself", and then joined his other brother in dragging the taller and heavier inu-hanyo onto dry ground. Rikaru watched them struggle with their task, secretly amused, though silently acknowledging to himself that he might have to do something to mollify Masaki. The youngest of the three brothers was hotheaded and could be rather indiscriminate in his use of his foxfire, which was quite powerful for someone of his youth. Fortunately, the boy was as susceptible to flattery as his next older brother. A pity Eijimaru, the oldest, was not so inclined, but he was a worrier, which was another way of saying he could be distracted.

The kitsune pulled the hanyo onto his back, and then started to tie his wrists together. "That will never hold him," called down Rikaru, trying to not roll his eyes. "Find some stones, and magic them up to boulder size. Big boulders."

"Yeah, stupid," said Shinkubi with a whack to his younger brother's head, "go find some rocks."

"Hey, you go find the rocks!" retorted the younger fox, shoving his brother in retaliation.

"You both go get rocks, and now," snapped Rikaru. "Before the illusion fades? I'd hate to think of an unbound inu-hanyo deciding he wants kitsune for breakfast."

Startled yips and a mad scramble to obey broke up the incipient squabble. Small stones were fished out of the creek and placed over the outstretched hands and feet. The first one had to be re-magicked three times before its apparent size and weight were sufficient to satisfy Rikaru. With that example, the other three needed only one attempt apiece.

"Good enough," allowed the elder fox as the two looked up for his approval. A 'pop' sounded as he broke the illusion spell. "Now go get your brother on his feet and go find Akeneka."

"You're going to be all right by yourself, sensei?" asked Shinkubi.

"Of course I will," snorted Rikaru. He dropped down from the branch, landing on the hanyo's stomach. "Now find her."

* * * * *

The last thing he recalled was the overwhelming stench, and falling. He coughed, almost gagging. A weight was lying on his stomach, making it hard to breathe. Gasping for breath a little, he tried to sit up, and realized that he was pinned to the ground. He tried to move, and realized that his hands and feet were pinned against the earth by massive weights. He couldn't move—

No! Panic flared through Inuyasha as he realized he was once again captive. He bucked against his restraints, desperately struggling to free his limbs. Pain pulsed up from his hands and legs, but the pain was eclipsed by the fear and the memories of much more savage pain, deliberately inflicted. A voice babbled, "Let me go, let me go!" A distant thought recognized the voice was his. But all he could feel was the terror, and the thundering beat of his racing heart. He had to get free!

Claw tips sank into his throat, and instinct stilled his struggles. He panted, struggling to focus his eyes on a face. It might have been familiar. It grinned at him. "Well, aren't you a pretty sight, little Inuyasha. And here I'd heard you were such a ferocious hanyo, slayer of onis, the terror of properly incensed youkai everywhere. And what do I find? A little boy, whimpering for mercy because of a few rocks on his hands." The face looking down at him smirked, and the hand released his throat and moved up to touch his bangs. "A little boy who let someone cut his hair—and oh, look at that poor little ear." Fingers touched his ear, still split from Sesshomaru's poison claw.

Panic and red rage flashed through Inuyasha in equal measure at the touch. Without conscious thought, he snapped his head up, sinking his fangs into the unguarded arm. The other person shrieked in pain as he bit down hard, flinging his head to one side. Abruptly, the weight vanished from his hand as the body of his foe fell sideways. Another shriek ripped through the air as he sank his freed claws into that body. The rest of the weight trapping his limbs vanished, and he flung the body aside as he surged to his feet.

Red hazed his vision as he whirled to face his fallen foe. He snarled, cracking his knuckles, splaying his claws. He wanted to kill, wanted to destroy this creature that had dared try to capture him. He wanted him dead, wanted his blood spurting under his claws, wanted to smell it, taste it—

"Inuyasha-sama, no!" A figure dropped down between him and his target. "Please, my lord, please don't kill him!" A small, slender woman with a triangular face stood before him, hands up in entreaty. "It was wrong for Rikaru-sensei to knock you out and pin you down, but, please don't kill him!"

He hesitated, struggling to remember whom the woman was, trying to remember where he was. His blood was burning, a hunger for death and destruction was gnawing at his mind, but he knew he didn't want to hurt a woman. Though something in him said this wasn't a woman—a human woman, anyway. "Who-are—?" he managed to grind out.

"Akeneka, my lord." She looked up him with anxious eyes. "Don't—"

"Rikaru-sensei!" "Sensei!" "Akeneka!"

The voices were coming from behind him. He stiffened, and then bolted.

* * * * *

Akeneka stared after the fleeing hanyo, but before she could decide what to do, the three brothers galloped into the clearing. "Akeneka, we heard screams!" "Akeneka, we were searching for you!" "We heard Rikaru-sensei scream!"

The three voices overlapped, making it difficult to understand. Ignoring them for the moment, the vixen concentrated, and popped back to her preferred fox/human form. Twitching her tail, she walked over to where the older fox had landed. Gesturing, she formed a tiny ball of foxfire, setting it to hover above his prone form. "Please let me see your arm, sensei," she said politely, kneeling next to him.

He snarled, clutching the bleeding arm to himself. "I don't need a vixen hovering over me, Akeneka!" he snapped, pushing himself to a seated position. "Damn stinking dog—he's going to pay for this!"

Akeneka tried to keep her expression calm, though she felt the fur on her tail bristling. "Sensei, why was it necessary to knock I—the hanyo out and pin him down? He wasn't doing anything."

"He's a dangerous killer and an insult to every youkai!"

"If he's dangerous, sensei, then why were you taunting him?"

Rikaru stiffened, glaring at her, and then, without warning, struck her. "Don't you dare take that tone with me, little vixen!" he snarled. "I am your sensei, your elder, and you will not question me!"

"Sensei!" "Rikaru-sensei!" "Akeneka!"

Stunned, she touched her cheek, which had been slashed open by his claws. She felt the blood trickling down from the cuts, absently noting that dampness now dotted the top of her kimono from the blood flung from his bleeding arm. Disbelieving, she stared at the two-tailed kitsune, as the trio yelped questions and protests. Rikaru-sensei, in the years he had spent training her and the others, had been caustic, demanding, and sarcastic, and quite willing to play humiliating tricks on his students. He had never praised her skills, always finding fault, but he had never humiliated her, and had never struck her.

Until now.

"Quiet!" Rikaru cut off the trio's voices with a cutting snarl. Akeneka watched him get to his feet, noticing that his tails were both bottled to their fullest extent. "Shinkubi, you take Akeneka back to the elders, and tell them to make sure she stays in her den. Then collect the rest of the hunters and tell them to grab their best weapons and bring them back here."

Akeneka gave the older kitsune a disbelieving stare, before gracefully standing up. Pivoting on one foot, she walked over to the creek and picked up the clothes Inuyasha had abandoned when he fled. "Akeneka, what do you think you are doing?" demanded Rikaru. "I told you to go home."

With her back to him, the young kitsune folded the two garments neatly, draping them over her left arm. She looked up towards the eastern sky, which was showing the first hint of dawn, her right hand searching the inner pocket of her kimono. "You cannot tell me what to do, Two-Tails," she said. "You are no longer my sensei. You are not my father, nor an elder of the clan."

"I am the one who decides who my students are," he snapped in return. "You are my student, you will obey me, and you will go home, or I will have you tied up and returned to your cave like a piece of firewood. Do you understand?"

She considered the leaves in her hand. "Better than I used to, Two-Tails—_split image!_" She swept her arm out, scattering the leaves in her hand, as she spoke the last two words. Pops sounded around the clearing, as over a dozen leaves transformed into identical images of the vixen. "You are a bully!" said a dozen voices in unison.

And then the images fled.

* * * * *

Rikaru Two-Tails had never been a patient or even-tempered kitsune, nor one who spent time on introspection. His temper frothed inside him as he glared at the retreating back of the middle brother, and the silent, subdued vixen lying over his shoulder. It had taken most of his will power to not grab her by her pretty neck and beat her until she groveled at his feet. The prettiest, cleverest vixen in the clan, and she dared to spurn him? How dare she!

He'd felt contempt at her attempt to escape with the multiple images. It had failed, of course—no two-tailed kitsune could be fooled by the leaf-illusions—a fitting reminder that the vixen was still barely more than a kit, to be using such childish tricks. He'd immediately recognized the 'real' image and chased after it; and of course she had no chance to outpace him. He grabbed her, hit her hard once, and she had dropped, whimpering. The other images popped back to the leaves they truly were. He had bound her wrists and ankles, before tossing her to Shinkubi with orders to take her back to the clan home, while he and the two others chased after the treacherous hanyo.

Forcing himself to turn away from the problem of the vixen he had chosen years ago to woo as a mate, Rikaru told Eijimaru to start tracking the hanyo. The dark-haired kitsune had nodded curtly and transformed, putting his nose down to the leaf-litter and starting in the direction they'd seen the hanyo flee.

It turned out to be a more tedious process than he liked. The hanyo might have fled in a panic, but his flight was neither a straight line, nor on the ground. Eijimaru shifted back to his half-human form into order to climb the trees, to find traces of the hanyo's scent. Rikaru kept himself from snapping at the other kitsune only because he found it preferable to think about what he was going to do to keep his vixen from defying him again.

What was it about kitsune vixens and that stinking piece of excrement known as 'Inuyasha'? He'd had every right, that time, to punish the hanyo for trying to steal his den, that winter. The ugly hanyo would have been stripped of his clothes, beaten to a bloody pulp, and hung in a tree for the carrion crows to finish, had he had his way. But no, the stupid vixens of his clan had been so foolish and weak-minded, that they'd been swayed by tears and a pretty face, and had insisted on rescuing the disgusting half-breed. Bad enough that, but they'd used that as an excuse to banish him from the clan itself! Just because some of the other dogs had been jealous of his potential, and because the elders were more interested in peace instead of what was right, he been tossed out of his own den, his own clan.

Someday, he fully intended on going back to the clan and show them the errors of their ways. But for now, he'd concentrated on mastering his skills, and then finding a fox clan that he could lead. The isolated forest clan, who had no experience at all with humans, had been perfect. They'd listened with wide eyes to his stories, and the younger dogs and vixens had jumped at his offer to teach. A few more centuries to develop his powers, to mate his vixen and raise a few litters, and he would be ready to show everyone how stupid they really were.

And now, she'd dared to defy him? Over that hanyo? How dare she? When he got back—

Padding feet running at top speed and the scent of a heated kitsune jolted Rikaru out of his brooding. Whirling, he faced down his back trail. A galloping kitsune leapt into view, saw him, and skidded to a halt to avoid running into him. The figure riding the kitsune's back was less fortunate: with a squawk, he lost his seat and catapulted into Rikaru, bringing him crashing to the ground. With an oaf, the kitsune shoved the green-skinned figure away. "What are you doing back here, Shinkubi?" he demanded. "And where's Akeneka?"

The panting kitsune abased himself. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he whimpered. "It wasn't Akeneka—it was only her kimono!"

"What?"

"I met this Jaken-dono, and he asked if I could help him find the hanyo Inuyasha, and I told him I had to take Akeneka back to our clan, and he asked what I was talking about and what I was doing carrying a kimono tied in rope over my shoulder, and I looked and it was an illusion it wasn't Akeneka! Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

Impossible. Rikaru stared at the middle brother, disbelieving. That had been Akeneka he'd bound. No simple kitsune illusion could continue after being touched. It took a very skillful kitsune to craft an illusion that was solid to the touch. Akeneka was only a vixen, barely more than a kit—no way she could have done that!

A wooden staff thumped the ground. "Are you the leader of these foxes?" demanded the small, green, vaguely toad like youkai.

Rikaru glared at him. "And what is it to you, beak-face? We're busy—find someone else to bother."

The globular, vertically slit yellow eyes glared at him. "I am Jaken, servant to the great Sesshomaru-sama, the inu taiyoukai of the western lands. I am on an important mission to find the hanyo Inuyasha, and I demand your help."

"Demand?" Rikaru lifted one corner of his lip in a sneer, showing a fang. "You think you can demand of me?"

"You will help me, or suffer the consequences," declared the diminutive youkai.

"What consequences?"

The small youkai raised the staff and slammed the end into the ground. The mouth of the carved head of an old human male dropped open, and Rikaru dove for the ground with a yelp as a long stream of fire spouted from the carved mouth.

"Are you trying to burn the forest down?" he demanded from his prone position.

"I do not have time to bargain with you, kitsune," said Jaken. "I can locate Inuyasha, but he moves quickly and it is vital I catch up with him quickly. One of you will carry me, while I cause the staff to lead us to the hanyo."

Rikaru studied the youkai, eyes narrowed as he thought. A magical staff that could seek their prey would be much faster than than the tedious job of sniffing out the hanyo's erratic trail. The little green youkai did not appear to have any strength other than his staff; at four to one, it would be simple to overpower him. Then the hanyo would be his, and the staff as well—it would be useful tool, once he figured out its secrets.

And he was fairly certain, that where the hanyo was, the treacherous Akeneka would be as well.

Standing up, Rikaru dusted himself off. "If you will use your staff as you say, Jaken-dono, I believe we can easily accommodate your need for speed. Eijimaru, since you are the largest, will you do me the favor of carrying this Jaken on your back?"

The eldest brother sighed. "Since you ask, Rikaru-sensei." He dropped down from the tree he'd been examining. He bowed slightly to the small youkai. "Please try to avoid pulling my fur, Jaken-dono." Transforming to his true form, he held still as Jaken crawled onto his back, save for the pair of large, twitching ears that signaled his discomfort. Settling himself, Jaken shifted his grip on the staff, muttering something unintelligible. Two tiny, clawed fingers and a thumb released the staff, and it remained upright. The eyes in the male head began to glow red, and the staff began to rotate. It stilled for a moment, then shot forward, barely missing the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Go, go, go!" squealed Jaken, wrapping his arms as far around Eijimaru's neck as far as they would go. "Follow it! Follow it!"

Quite ready to end this chase as soon as possible, Rikaru dropped to all fours and transformed. Growling, he charged into the lead. Inuyasha wasn't going to escape him again, and neither was Akeneka. She was like the vixens of his old clan, and it was obvious where he was going to find her. Neither of them would ever escape him again. And as for the little youkai, well, a few kitsune tricks would be enough to leave him dazed and witless, and if he died in the youkai forest, it would hardly be his fault, now would it?

Meanwhile, it was time to catch up with a hanyo.


	13. Flight and Fight

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Blood Unbound, Part XII: Flight & Fight**

The rising sun sent a stab of light into Inuyasha's eyes. He flinched and then staggered, slamming into a tree. It shivered under the impact, and he jerked away as felt its youki flaring. Feet tangling, he went down to hands and knees. His head both spun and ached, and his gut was cramping. He tried to remember why he was running, and where he was running to—or was it from? Where was he? He couldn't remember. Couldn't think. Why was he so short of breath? And why was he so hot?

A rustle of leaves came from his left, along with the smell of a ground bird—a _mortal_ ground bird. Instinct took over: he whirled, claws out. The bird paid for its unwariness, and the hanyo grabbed it with both hands as the rich smell of blood struck his nose. Claws ripped the feathered skin from the corpse, and he buried his fangs in the hot, bloody flesh that had barely realized it was dead. Thought disappeared as he fed his ravenous body.

Blood and feathers and various other bits scattered the ground as he finished. The hanyo licked his bloody hands, sniffing for new prey. Hunger still growled in his being, and the taste of the raw, bloody meat was euphoric. He wanted more. More blood. More death in his claws. It felt so good—

His ear flicked at the barely audible sound of an owl landing on a branch. Whirling, he looked up, smelling the youki swirling tightly around the figure. He grinned. Youkai prey. Blood and youki and death: a feast. Yes. Feast. Fill his belly, fill his mind. Bliss. Joy.

A voice called down, but he paid it no heed, moving closer to the tree in a four-footed stalk. Prey. His body tensed, muscles coiling. The voice spoke again, sounding nervous, and his grin only widened. Fear was good. He could smell it, taste it on the breeze, and he wanted it. Fear, death, yes, yes!

He sprang.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Rikaru followed the oldest brother as they galloped through the forest, flashing through shadows and sunlight. It would have been faster to pursue through the air, but two of the brothers had not mastered any form with decent aerial speed. He did not want them unable to keep up, when it would take all of them to bring the hanyo down. And he did not want to risk alerting the silly vixen to their presence until the last possible moment: no sense giving her any chance to give them the slip again.

A high-pitched scream came from above the trees. Eijimaru skidded to a stop, not quite unseating his passenger. "Akeneka!" Cried the kitsune, as Rikaru swerved to avoid him. "She's hurt!"

Without pausing, Rikaru leapt, transforming to his semi-human form in midair. Catching a tree-limb with his hands, he scrambled and jumped upwards until he could see the sky. A final leap took him into midair, where he transformed into a giant hawk. The kistune pumped his wings to gain altitude, using his enhanced sight to look for Akeneka's owl form.

She was horribly easy to find. Though his olfactory sense was nearly nonexistent in this form, he could clearly see the blood and sense the youki trailing from her shredded wing. How she was managing to stay aloft he didn't know, but he knew she would not be able to keep going for long. "Akeneka!" He yelled, surging forward. "I'm coming!"

"Rikaru! Be careful!" She cried. Her wing beats faltered, and she started to slide-slip before recovering. Rikaru beat his wings as hard and fast as he could, struggling to increase his speed. "Inuyasha's gone mad—his claws—look out for his claws!"

A blurred form shot up through the treetops directly below the transformed vixen. "Akeneka, look out!" Rikaru screamed, sensing the horrible strength of the youkai's aura. "Akeneka!" The white-haired youkai swept a bare arm through an arc, and golden claw slashes burned through the air. The owl rolled, crying out, but not far or fast enough. One arc clipped the end of her already-wounded wing. Screaming, Akeneka fell, her owl form disappearing with a pop, transforming to her true fox form. To his horror, Rikaru saw her attacker twist in midair as he started his descent, turning to watch the falling vixen.

"Damn you, bastard!" screamed Rikaru, finding new speed. "Leave her alone! Fight me!"

The bare-chested figure whirled in midair. Rikaru's fury froze in fear as he finally saw the other's face, and as Akeneka's words suddenly made sense. It was the despised hanyo—transformed. The shimmering, red aura surrounding the figure was overwhelming—totally unlike he had sensed before. It was more powerful than any he had ever sensed.

Far more powerful than his own.

The transformed hanyo dropped back to the trees. Trying to ignore his fear, Rikaru shrieked a challenge in his hawk's voice, and then banked violently, turning away from Akeneka's direction. He went into a barrel roll, popping momentarily into his semi-human form, grabbing items from his vest, scattering them, and muttering spells beneath his breath even as he popped back into his hawk form. He pivoted on a wingtip as he felt the monstrous youki rising underneath him, activating his spells. He rolled again, then transformed into a smaller, faster version of his previous form, more charms clutched in his claws.

Fire exploded behind him. In his extended peripheral vision, he saw the hanyo in the middle of the explosions, and heard the hanyo yelp. Flying higher, he shifted his course, continuing to fly away from Akeneka's position but angling so he could better see the results of his spells. Mentally, he gave a grim smile. The transformed hanyo was surrounded by the sphere of fire, which had to be paining him, illusion or no. More important, he was motionless, arms stretched out to his sides, with tiny pairs of wings flapping, attached to the back of each hand, with an additional set melded to the top of his skull. Rikaru breathed a prayer of thanks to Inari. The spells wouldn't last long, but it might at least give them a chance to regroup and figure out what to do.

"Rikaru-sensei!" Pivoting on a wingtip, the two-tailed kitsune felt relief as he spotted the eldest brother laboring into view, two figures on the broad back of his eagle form. "I have Akeneka! She's hurt!"

"Tell me something I do not know, Eijimaru!" He snapped, trying not to wince as he felt the hanyo fighting the spells. "Where are your brothers?"

"Here!" Pivoting, he saw two forms that could be called 'birds' only out of courtesy drifting above the trees, fortunately not too close to the hanyo. "Rikaru-sensei, what's going on?"

Rikaru winged over into a shallow dive and headed towards the laboring Eijimaru, wishing that the two younger brothers had worked harder on their airborne forms. Why did he have to be so unfortunate at this juncture to have two students who didn't like flying?

"Get over to your brother, and be quick about it!" He yelled. His sharp hawk eyes caught sight of the mangled condition of Akeneka's foreleg and flinched away, but not before he noticed the red and white material tightly gripped between the toes of her hind feet. Ignoring the question that wanted to bubble up in his mind, Rikaru dove underneath Eijimaru then eased to one side, shifting back to his large hawk form as he paced the kitsune. "Jaken-dono, jump onto my back! Eijimaru can't keep carrying you both!"

"What?" squawked the green-skinned youkai. "Jump? I'll fall!"

"I'll grab you and throw you off if you don't jump!" Rikaru retorted.

There was a nervous squawk from Jaken, and then a small body slammed onto his back. The youkai might be small, but he was still heavy enough to drive his bird form down several lengths before he could recover. Eijimaru audibly expressed his relief and thanks, but Rikaru's attention was on the two slower brothers struggling to close. Hearing a louder growl from the dangling hanyo, and a fresh surge of youki, Rikaru concentrated for a moment, then eased the tight clench of his left foot. Two black missiles darted away on a direct course towards the hanyo, and exploded into puffs of noxious clouds as they hit him.

"Not again!" Shinbuku protested, sneezing and coming perilously close to losing control of his form. "Rikaru sensei— "

A laugh, low and guttural, startled them all. Rikaru pivoted on a wingtip, barely noticing the small claws digging into his feathers, his stomach clenching in horrified dread. Despite the flames, despite the stench, despite his helpless position in midair, the hanyo was—laughing. The red eyes met his, and Rikaru shook in every feather. "Do you really think you can defeat me, little youkai?" asked the rasping, guttural voice. "So small, your blood. So weak."

The hanyo flexed his shoulders. Youki pulsed, and every spell shattered. The hanyo dropped, falling towards the trees, but Rikaru knew that his life might well be measured in mere moments. "Higher!" he screamed, pumping his wings. "Get out of range!"

"What about our fire?" Asked Masaki. "Can't we burn him down?"

"What?" Squawked Jaken. "I need him alive!"

"Much good that will do if you're dead!" retorted Ejimaru from above. "Use your fire, and we'll use ours!"

"You stay away, Eijimaru!" snarled Rikaru. "Protect Akeneka! Masaki, Shinbuku, move apart, so he can't get you with one blow!"

"But—" Jaken started to protest. White flickered below them.

"Just do it!" screamed Rikaru, banking into a turn to give the imp a clear shot. "Do it now—kitsune-bi!"

The hanyo rocketed towards them. Rikaru could cast his fire without shifting his form, but the two brothers popped desperately back into their accustomed forms, making physical gestures to 'throw' the fire. Shinkubi missed, although the hanyo made no attempt to dodge. They popped back into aerial forms, continuing to drop even as they fled from each other and Rikaru. The transformed Inuyasha didn't seem to notice, his red eyes fixed on Rikaru, even as the flames—real, this time—surrounded him, his manic grin unchanged. The hanyo's arms shifted back, hands arched in claws, and Rikaru snapped into a hard wingover, desperate to get out of the hanyo's range, forgetting at that moment of the passenger of his back. Too late, he heard Jaken shriek as he was thrown clear. Too late, he realized that his maneuver was fruitless, as the hanyo spun in midair, his arm coming forward, the gold in his claws glittering brightly even through the surrounding flames. He saw his death, and Rikaru could not stop the whimper in his throat as the gold grew and the burning hanyo grinned—

And then, from below, a gout of flame blasted upwards. It slammed into Inuyasha's chest, with enough force to throw him backwards. The golden claws split the air, slashing into nothing, and then, without a sound, the hanyo fell.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Too late! Too late!

Myoga clung, unnoticed, to the top of the eagle's head as Inuyasha leapt back up out of the trees intent on destruction. If only he had awoken earlier! But, a swollen body full of poison to neutralize always left him helpless and asleep, and what could he have done, even awake? He didn't even know how he had gotten up in the air, except Akekena must have wrapped him up in Inuyasha's discarded clothes. The smell of her blood and Inuyasha's transformed youki had roused him, and he had crept out of the layers of material to find himself perched on the back of an eagle-shaped kitsune, just in time to see a trio of kitsune preparing to match their fire against the blood-maddened Inuyasha. Shivering, every tiny claw clenched onto a feather, Myoga dithered between two choices: to jump and depend on his lack of size to escape the imminent crisscross of flame and claw unharmed, or to stay perched on what was currently—but only for the moment—the safest spot in the fray.

He shuddered as he saw his master enveloped in fox-fire; as he saw the evidence of how the ravening youkai blood took away Inuyasha's ability to even perceive the pain of what was happening. Desperately, he hoped that his master could win free, yet knowing also his past master's fear that a blood-mad Inuyasha would be a threat to every living form in range, until he was killed or his blood locked back down. Within his tiny heart, he wailed in despair, for he had failed. Failed! Failed to protect the son from himself. Failed to fulfill the promises made to the father, his protector, his one-time friend.

The hawk-formed fox panicked and dumped his rider. Myoga saw the transformed hanyo spin in place; knew, as surely did the kitsune, that the panicked move had been in vain. Sickened, he waited to see the kitsune die—

And nearly lost his grips as Sesshomaru's imp somehow managed to land a perfect and ferocious blast of flame, even as he was falling and shrieking. Myoga saw Inuyasha's attack go astray, saw him knocked backwards, and then saw him start to fall, his body limp. No! Without thinking, the flea flung himself off his perch, horrified. No, no, no! The boy could not be dead! Not from the effort of a few kitsune and an imp with a staff! Not the Inu no Taisho's son! He could not be dead!

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Rikaru dove after the shrieking Jaken, chagrined and elated at once, yelling at the brothers to stay above the trees. Back winging to land on a branch, he switched forms and followed the yelps on down towards the ground. Making a last leap, he landed on hands and feet next to the groaning Jaken--who, despite the fall through the trees, had managed to keep his grip on his staff. The impressiveness of that feat, however, was undermined by the wailing of the battered little youkai. "I'm dead! I'm dead! Lord Sesshomaru, forgive me, why did I leave you! Oh, my back, my head! I'm dead! I'm dead!"

"Oh, shut up," snapped Rikaru, rolling his eyes and grabbing the imp by the back of his robe. "You're not dying." He tossed the imp onto his back. "This time, hold on!"

Jaken shrieked, digging three sets of claws into Rikaru's vest as he jumped up towards a tree limb. "Stupid fox! You ordered me to use my staff on the hanyo, and then turned upside down without warning! It's your fault I am injured!"

"Shut up and be quiet!" Rikaru snarled again, sniffing the air, before jumping for another branch. "We're going to find that damned hanyo, and then you're going to burn him until he's dead! Got that?"

"What? I can't! Lord Sesshomaru will kill me if I destroy Inuyasha without his permission!"

"And I'll kill you if you don't!"

"You can't kill me! Lord Sesshomaru will never allow it!"

"I don't see any 'Lord Sesshomaru' standing around trying to stop me, toad!"

"He will destroy you, if you kill me! Lord Sesshomaru is a great and terrible inu taiyoukai, the son of the Inu no Taisho who ruled over the western lands! Do not tempt his wrath, kitsune, or he will track you down and burn your fur off with his poison, then slice you into pieces with his claws! You cannot withstand him or his power!"

"He'll have to find me first, beak-face, and you'll still be dead!"

"My name is Jaken, fox, not beak-face! And there is nowhere to hide, if Sesshomaru decides to hunt you down! He is the greatest, most terrible taiyoukai currently alive! You dare not risk being hunted by him!"

"Hah! How is he going to figure out who killed you? How is he going to even know where or how you died? Answer me that, beak-face!"

"Why, you, you, kitsune!"

"That's Rikaru-sensei, to you, little toad!"

"It's Jaken!"

A wind suddenly blasted their faces with long, thin leaves. The branch beneath Rikaru's hands and feet shook, causing him to yelp and grab on to avoid being tossed. Jaken similarly yelped and dug in, his small but tiny clawed digits digging past cloth and into flesh. Rikaru yelped again. "Damn you, stop sticking me with your claws!"

"Stop trying to make me lose my perch!"

"And if you both want to stay alive, you should stop arguing before Inuyasha-sama recovers and hears you!"

Rikaru froze at the new voice, looking wildly around for the invisible speaker, until his eyes finally fell on a tight swirl of leaves that marked the limits of a youkai wind spell. A leaf--long and narrow like the others, floated on top of the tiny whirlwind. On top of the leaf, clinging with sets of tiny claws, crouched a flea.

"Myoga!" exclaimed Jaken. "What are you doing here!"

"No time for chitter! Listen to me! Inuyasha-sama must be lured to Bokuseno--only he has the power to subdue the blood-rage! Wind Along the Stream has sent her leaves to warn Bokuseno and ask his aid, but you must lead Inuyasha-sama to him!"

"What? Why should I do that!"

"Because--"

A rising snarl interrupted whatever Myoga intended to say. Rikaru stiffened, started to sniff the air, then jumped upward with all the strength in his legs before he could even finish the inhalation, his anger and annoyance disappearing in a blast of terror at the first scent of bloodlust. The hanyo was back!

He raced for the top of the trees, moving faster than he would have thought possible. Less than three leaps away from freedom, he felt a growing flare of youki and leapt wildly to one side. Tree limbs shattered beneath him, and he cried out as splinters slashed through his fur and skin. The twin-tailed kitsune flared his youkai, managing an air-leap, taking him high enough that he could transform into a hawk without risking his wings. He wrenched his course violently sideways even as he took the first downbeat of his wings, and only that saved him as a fresh set of eldritch claws missed his outermost feathers by less than a finger-length. Using his youki to augment the power of his wings, he clawed for height. Seeing the trio of brothers above him, he screamed at them, "Head for Bokuseno! We must lead him to Bokuseno!" His sharpened eyes saw the bewilderment on their faces, and then he saw the answer to their question before they could ask. "Follow the leaves! Move, move, move!"

And pray that Inari protect them!


	14. Morning in the Village

_**Disclaimer:** This piece is based on 'Inuyasha', owned by Rumiko Takahashi. No copyright infringement intended or implied._

**Morning in the Village**

The rain shower ended as did her prayers. Opening her eyes, Yukuukuu stared at the bare patch of soil underneath which the ashy remnants of her mistress lay buried. Dead. Killed.

Of course, humans died quickly, compared to her own kind. She knew that, having grown up hearing stories about the first abbot of the temple tanuki who had known him. Not even the oldest monk in the temple had known him or known humans who had known him. The abbot, or so the stories said, had lived a very long time for a human. But he had died, of old age.

"She said she planned to live forever," she murmured.

She saw, from the corner of her eye, her human companion opening his own. "Many humans think they want live forever, if they could," he acknowledged.

"Do you?" she asked.

He turned his head to look at her, tilting his straw hat back, the better to meet her gaze. "I would not pay the price of that life, Yukuukuu-san."

Her ears twitched, as she tilted her head in confusion. "What price?"

"To become something other than human," he replied. "I seek the path to Nirvana, but how can I achieve that, if I seek to escape, rather than transcend, this mortal life?" She gave him a confused look. He frowned a little, then shook his head. "Sorry, little one." He looked up, towards the blue breaking through the early morning clouds. "To me, to want to extend a life forever is-selfish. I wish to learn all that I must in this life, and then move on. How can I continue to learn, if I strive not to leave the wheel of reincarnation, but avoid it entirely? How long does my soul stay human, if I live on and on, while all around me, generation after generation of humans pass me by? How long, before I cease to care that they suffer? How long before I stop trying to avoid causing suffering, or work to relieve suffering? How long, before I look at humans, as things?"

Yukuukuu looked down at her lap, uncertain that she even began to understand what the monk was talking about. "But why should there be a price for wanting to live a long time? Do we tanuki pay a price for living a lot longer than humans?"

The man gave her a sharp look, looking passed in silence, and then, finally, his eyes crinkled in a smile. He chuckled. "Tanuki-sama, you have managed to humble this self-important monk. When did you grow so wise?"

She blinked at him. "Wise? I'm only a young tanuki-papa would say I didn't know anything."

"Ah, but from young ignorance may come questions that the mature might not have considered, because experience has bounded their vision." He smiled wryly. "Truly, Yukuukuu, I don't know the answer. We will have to ponder that question. But, for now, I must leave you. Until tomorrow."

He left, rather quickly, at least compared to the other mornings. The tanuki watched him depart from the corner of her eye, then dropped her gaze to her hands again, feeling uncomfortable, and wondering what she was doing here. She had left her clan, determined to have 'adventures', to become on her return a respected and wise. It had certainly seemed like an adventure, when she had been rescued from that trap, and then in turn, rescued the priestess herself. But, now ...

What was she doing here?

... ... ...

Haruka kept one eye on the path as she scrubbed the latest load of laundry for her brother's family. Spotting the monk walking up from his latest visit to the youkai, the young woman hastily dried her hands on a strategically-placed cloth, before hastening down to the path. "Good morning, Miyatsu-sama!" She smiled at him. "Did you persuade that tanuki to leave yet?"

He smiled back at her, though he shook his head. "Good morning, lovely Haruka-chan. Yukuukuu will be leaving when she has finished the prayers for the dead, which will be two days from now. Surely, you do not begrudge her concern for one who was kind to her?"

The young woman tried to keep her smile on her face. "Well, it's just, you know, Usagi-san is worried about the safety of the children. She's not feeling well, which is why I'm doing the laundry, but I worry about the kids, too, you know..."

He shook his head at her. "Tanuki tend towards mischief, but are rarely inclined to harm humans. Yukuukuu is no danger to the children."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Miyatsu-sama." She sidled closer. "I guess I shouldn't need to worry, with a strong, clever monk like you around."

"You're being very flattering this morning, Haruka-chan," he replied, eyes twinkling.

"It's not flattery, if it's the truth, is it?" she countered, moving closer. "You're the reason we don't have that hanyo still hanging about the village, isn't it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Inuyasha left of his own will."

Haruka shrugged. "He's gone, and that's what counts. And it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been here." She hesitated a fraction, then plunged on. "We're all grateful, you know. Especially Usagi and my brother. And me. We-I-you know I'd-we'd, love to show our appreciation. If there's anything I can do for you, you just have to ask..."

He smiled at her. "You are being entirely too flattering, my dear Haruka-chan. I thank-you for your offer, and if I discover there is something I truly require, I will ask you. However-"

"Houshi-sama! Houshi-sama!"

Haruka started, and whipped her head around, to see a tiny slip of a dark-haired girl pelting down the path. Shouting again, Korana ran at full tilt, then leapt towards the monk. Miyatsu caught her easily, whirling her around to a gale of giggles. "Good morning, Korana-chan," he said with a chuckle, settling her on his hip. "So what does the prettiest little girl in the village want with this old monk, hmm?"

The girl giggled again. "Kikyo-sama's looking for you. She said I could come see whether you were back from praying with Yukuukuu, 'long as I didn't go past Kunio-san's house. She said to tell you that if you didn't want her to go herb-gathering without you, you had to come now."

"Oh, she did, did she?" Haruka watched Miyatsu's face, as concern as well as amusement flitted over it. "Well, I'd better come quick, hadn't I? Tell you what..." He set the girl down on her feet. "You take your quick little feet, and run back to Kikyo and tell her I'm on my way. All right?"

"Okay!" she replied, with a giggle. "Bye, houshi-sama! Bye, Haruka-san!" And away she went.

Haruka tried to smile as the monk turned his attention back to her. "I'll let you know if I need anything, Haruka-chan," he said, patting her shoulder. "I'll let you get back to your laundry." His hand stroked down her shoulder in a brief caress, and then he turned away.

She kept her expression still, but her hands clenched as she walked away. Haruka watched Miyatsu's wide-shouldered back, his easy stride. With an effort, she forced herself to turn away and walk back up the slope to where the laundry tub stood. Testing the water with a finger, she resumed her scrubbing, fuming inside at the interruption. Kikyo was such a, such a-

"That has to be the worst example of flirting I've ever seen," drawled a voice behind her.

Haruka jumped, and whirled. "Hajime-san!" She glared at the headman's son, as he leaned against the tree and smirked. "What makes you think-I wasn't flirting!"

"Oh, now, Haruka-chan, everyone knows there's not more than two maidens in this village who hasn't made eyes at the monk-and you're not one of them."

She turned back to the tub. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, feeling her face heat.

He chuckled, almost in her ear, and she tensed. "Oh, I think you do, Haruka-chan," he whispered. "Everyone knows you're desperate to move out of your father's house, and out from under your sister-in-law's thumb. Except no one wants you. And no one wants to help you. Usagi treats you like a servant, and your father thinks you're hopeless..."

"Shut up!" she hissed, scrubbing fiercely, splashing water.

"I might be able to help you," he murmured.

Haruka stilled. She stared down at the soapy water. She was the youngest of her family. Ever since her mother had been killed four years ago in that youkai attack-which had also killed the only boy who had ever really seemed to like her-it felt as if everything had gone wrong with her life. Her only sister had already married and left the house, leaving her the responsibility to care for her father and his hut. A year later, her oldest brother had moved back in with his wife, Usagi, then roundly pregnant with twins. She had taken over the management of the household, but had Haruka doing most of the actual work. The twins had meant a lot more work, and then Usagi had become pregnant again, and was pregnant a fourth time now. Her father ignored her complaints, and her sister had died of a fever over the winter, leaving her without anyone on her own side.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

... ... ...

Miyatsu tried not to sigh, as he walked back towards the center of the village. Having heard bits and pieces of her situation, he felt rather sorry for Haruka. She was pretty enough, and he wouldn't mind flirting with her, or going further, under other conditions. But, as much as he liked women, he tried to avoid situations that would threaten a heartbreak. Teasing, flirting, even bedding a pretty young woman who had obvious prospects was one thing. But encouraging a young woman who was desperate, and leaving her with a big belly and with no one who wanted to take her to wife...he would not chance causing that much harm.

He tucked the problem away for later consideration as he spotted Kikyo, who was surrounded by a veritable covey of children. Korana spotted him first, and lifted one hand from a large basket to wave at him. "Kikyo-sama wants to go now, houshi-sama!" she called out. "I get to carry her basket!"

Miyatsu smiled, giving Kikyo a close examination as he closed. She was leaning on a walking staff, her face pale but expressionless. Her bow and quiver were slung over her shoulder. Kaede stood beside her, also equipped with bow and quiver, and holding her own basket. "Looks like everyone's ready to go," he observed. "Anything I need to do; besides carry Kikyo-sama?"

"You're not carrying me," Kikyo said coldly. "I can walk."

Miyatsu frowned. "Kikyo-sama: it's not yet a moon since your leg was broken. I don't think it's wise to trying to walk yet."

"It's my choice, houshi-sama."

"Don't worry, houshi-sama." A short, white-haired woman moved into view from behind Kikyo. "She's safe enough on the path, and I'm not going just to make sure you keep those wandering hands off our miko. When I say you help her; you'll help her."

"Amaya-obaa-chan..." Kikyo muttered, the faintest hint of a blush rising on her cheeks.

"Does that mean you would favor my attentions, oh lovely grandmother?" he asked.

She snorted and shook her short walking-stick at him. "Hands to yourself, houshi. And save the sweet-talk for those young enough to feel flattered."

He gave her a disappointed look, though his eyes twinkled. "But all the rest of these are too young..."

She smirked. "Precisely."

* * *

**Author's Note:** My apologies for taking so long to update. 2009, in many ways, was not a good year, and I just had trouble concentrating on this story. One of my resolutions in 2010 is to finish this story, working on it in alternate weeks along with the new AU story, "White To Black." The next chapter should cover the climax of the fight between the youkai Inuyasha and the kitsunes...


	15. The Beast

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Blood Unbound, Part XIV: The Beast**

_"You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention." _The Last Unicorn, by Peter Beagle.

The beast pursued them, knowing nothing but bliss. It chuckled to itself as it ran and leaped, delighting in the pungent odor of terror in the fleeing auras of youki. Nothing was more pleasurable to the beast than that terror, except for the hot, rich blood covering its claws.

The beast's world was only the world of prey and predator, of fear and death. It could only hear whimpers and cries of pain. It could see only the things that fled before it, or the pulse of living blood beneath skin or fur. But those senses, to the beast, were minor. It was the smell of blood, the scent of terror, whether emanating from mortal or youkai, that all its attention was fixed upon.

There were many sources of terror that dawn morning. But, most--whether mortal animal or lesser youkai--froze where they were when they sensed the ravening beast, either from instinct or chance, knowing to stay still. Small, still, they were ignored for the fleeing prey.

Some youkai in its path did not fear. The great youkai trees of the forest barely comprehended the terror the more mobile youkai could feel. But, what they could feel was anger. Roused once already by the smell of invading human blood, they readily responded to the messages of the great magnolia and the ancient willow, and even the tiny, but well-known flea. Slow the inu-blood. Deflect its path, shape its course. It must reach Bokuseno. Protect the kitsune, slow the inu, but do not kill.

The beast ran and leaped after it prey, heedless of all else. If a wind spell knocked it off balance, it somersaulted into a roll, coming out to kick off against branch or trunk. If a whip-branch wrapped itself around an ankle, it freed himself with a slash of golden claws. Arrow-leaves, such as those which had brought down the hanyo, could not hold the beast, and gouts of miasma he didn't even notice. The beast was not invulnerable-- foxfire burned him, leaves cut him, miasma scorched his lungs. But the burning, unbound blood eclipsed the pain, eclipsed the fear, eclipsed thought, and eclipsed reason. The beast knew nothing.

Except the desire to kill.

/==/==/==/

The wind was as icy shards slicing through her paw. Akeneka whimpered, wondering why she was so cold, why her ears were filled with the roar of wind. She hurt. Her paw hurt--

"Akeneka?"

The voice was odd--strained sounding, and out of breath. The owner of that voice came to her but slowly. "Eiji--eijimaru?" she whispered. "So...cold..."

"I know," came the kitsune's panting voice. "We're--in the air. Flying. Don't--try to move. Damn hanyo--chasing us. Got to stay--out of range..."

Hanyo? Akeneka couldn't remember any hanyo, but, then, she was so cold. Shivering, she whimpered again. The wind was whipping through her fur and battering her ears. If only she could get warm! She shifted, wanting to curl up, protect her ears, and her painful paw--

"Damn it, stop it! Akeneka! Stop trying to move!"

The vixen's eyes snapped open as she felt the ground fall away from her, and then, the next moment, rise sharply. The motion sent a stab of agony through her paw. She yelped.

"Sorry! Just--don't move!"

The words almost made sense. Akeneka tried to obey, panting, also trying to understand why one eye saw endless blue, while the other saw mostly a variegated brown. Comprehension slowly filtered through her cold- and pain-numbed mind. Eijimaru was in his eagle form, flying. She was on his back. Why, she didn't quite understand, except it must have to do with why she was so cold and hurt so much. "Eijimaru--"

"Don't--talk!" snapped the older kitsune, between pants. "When we--get to--Bokuseno--then ask--questions!"

Bokuseno? Akeneka blinked, mind jolting a bit more awake. She knew who Bokuseno was--one of the oldest trees in the forest. She'd never been to the magnolia--in fact, she didn't know anyone in the tribe who had ever gone to visit him. But, all the forest and its inhabitants knew Bokuseno, just as they knew Takaikatsura and Wind Along the Stream. Those ancient trees were not inclined to interfere in the minor, day-to-day squabbles and tribulation of existence. But, when they did arouse to speak, even a taiyoukai was wise to listen--

A scream startled her out of her fading musing. Eijimaru started and abruptly banked, throwing the injured vixen sideways across his slick back. "Shinkubi!" Her shriek and his horrified cry mingled as she desperately scrabbled for a hold with her one good forepaw, her rear feet inexplicably tangled in cloth. He continued his turn, and Akeneka acted in desperate instinct, lurching into her bipedal form, struggling to grasp anything that would keep her from falling.

Eijimaru yelped as her sudden shift in weight threw him off-balance. "Stop it!" he screamed, his bank turning into a sideways dive. "You're too heavy! Change back! Change back!" But all that was holding her to him was her desperate grip at the base of his left wing. The world was spinning crazily, all atilt with cold and pain and fear, and it was all she could do to keep her fingered grip. And then, as her weight continued to drag at him, the forces on the kitsune-turned-eagle rolled him onto his back. Akeneka dangled for a moment, all of her weight on her one hand.

Her hand could not hold her.

She fell.

Akeneka shrieked. She changed again, shifting into her owl form. But, her shattered limb snapped out and back in utter agony as she attempted to spread her wings. She tumbled, screaming, losing her hold on the bird form. She caught one glimpse of the forest, so far beneath her, and shut her eyes tightly, fighting not to scream again. Curling in on herself, protecting her injured arm, the vixen begged the kami to make it quick, and make it painless. She knew she would die. She had loved the physical aspects of flying, had loved her owl form, and had never tried to achieve a form that used pure youki to float. Now her disdain doomed her.

She would never find her brother now.

/==/==/==/

Rikaru saw it coming. The trees were not helping enough. The hanyo was relentless, and seemingly inexhaustible. They knocked him off balance, they slowed him down, but they could not stop him.

The two-tailed fox could not have tallied the near misses, as he dove and danced in the sky, trying to keep the blood-mad hanyo's attention on him, and not on his less skillful students. He did not remember when he had again dumped the green-skinned imp from his back, and didn't care. He used every bit of his skill to avoid the dangerous, youki claws, while working in the direction of the spinning leaves. He used all of his rage and his hate to heighten his speed, to strengthen his youki, and his endurance. He hated the hanyo. He had always hated the hanyo, ever since that winter when a lone, lost, wounded little boy had stumbled into a pair of soft-hearted kitsune vixens, who had, astonishingly, somehow persuaded the tribe's elders to allow them to care for the pathetic, dirty-blooded half-dog. It was the half-breed who had gotten him exiled from his own tribe. It was the half-breed who had injured _his_ Akeneka, who was threatening _his_ students. He was too caught within the situation to even think of arguing with the trees, but when this was over--

He was going to kill that hanyo.

If he survived.

The kitsune winged over to avoid the latest lash of golden claws. They missed by more than a hand-breadth. Rikaru snarled in satisfaction--

Shinkubi's scream shattered that half-formed reaction. Still in his wing over, momentarily upside down, through his hawk-enhanced vision, he saw the awkward bird-form of the middle brother shatter rather than pop out of existence, leaving a screaming, bloody rag that had once been a fox. Time nearly stood still for Rikaru as horror iced his soul, but then, other voices shrieked, grabbing his attention. As he flipped right side up, the two-tailed fox glanced up in time to see the second tragedy forming. He saw Eijimaru slipping sideways, saw Akeneka transforming to her larger form, and saw her losing her grip. He saw her fall.

He froze. Just for a sliver of a moment, as he realized that he had only one chance, to save just one of his students. Just one. Not both. And, quite possibly--neither.

That sliver cost him. Rikaru's voice added to the pandemonium as youki claws raked across his belly and legs. It was a glancing blow, which saved him, but the shock snatched him out of his bird form. Writhing in midair, savage images seared into his mind in strobe-like flicks of awareness. Akeneka falling. Eijimaru tumbling, wings beating erratically as he struggled to come out of a fall for which his instincts could not assist him. Shinkubi, no longer screaming, blood raining in reverse as he fell.

And, then, as his body turned, he saw the hanyo, tumbling in the midst of a whirlpool of spade-shaped leaves. The razor-edged leaves sliced through bare skin and through resisting fire-rat cloth as the youki wind whirled them about the hanyo. But, each cut healed as quickly as it was made. And when the whirlpool brought the falling hanyo around, it saw him.

It grinned. And, despite the wind, lashed out with its claws.

Rikaru Two-Tails snapped. He shrieked and transformed, the snap of his wings taking him above the deadly claws. But, this time, his wings were not layered with the appearance of normal feathers. Wrapped in the pale blue nimbus of his foxfire, Rikaru screamed and dove. It didn't matter that he had never practiced this form. It didn't matter that he had pulsed his youki to a level he could not sustain. He forgot about the falling bodies, of which he might have been able to save one, had he acted quickly enough. It didn't matter that older and wiser and more dangerous youkai wanted the hanyo alive.

All he wanted, all he cared to do, was to wrap his flaming wings around the hideous, horrifying, nauseating thing that should never have existed, and to burn it. Burn it until it transformed to lifeless ash.

And if meant his own life--

At that moment, Rikaru didn't care.

/==/==/==/

The beast chuckled as it saw its second victim scream and stagger. Blood! More blood shed! Perhaps it felt a slight disappointment when it sensed that its claws had been less successful than the first successful attack had been. But, when that same being pulsed its youkai and transformed into a firebird, diving straight at it, the beast only grinned and pulsed his own power, 'jumping' through and out of the whirlwind of leaves. The beast struck with its claws once, twice. They shattered against the blue balefire surrounding the descending, red-eyed form. The fact of failure did not--could not--register on the beast's awareness. The threat of the blazing fire did not exist to its limited mind. It flung itself upward, aware only that its foe was directly in front of it. It had no concern about the flames surrounding the maddened other; no care for the strength of the overpowered aura.

They collided. Wings of fire wrapped around a half-bared torso; and powerful hands and claws reached through the flames to find flesh. Foxfire burned, and claws shredded, as the two combatants, heedless of anything but the need to kill, fell.

The winds roared.


	16. Under Bokuseno

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter 15: Beneath Bokuseno**

The beast snapped its head out of the frigid water, coughing, and sneezing. Leaping to dry ground, it shook itself vigorously, sending water droplets flying. Giving a little grunt as the irksome stuff departed its ears, it leaned back on its haunches, sniffing the air, and looking around with eager, red eyes.

Blood scent misted the air from several locations. Homing in on the strongest smell, the beast spotted a reddish-brown form floating down the river. Sniffing again, it grumbled in vague disappointment. The prey was still alive, but just barely. Neither fear nor pain nor anger could be scented, and its youki was barely detectable. Still, it was alive, and the blood it could yet spill would smell so delicious. The beast sampled the air again, then sprang in a long, flat leap that would take it back into the river and into the floating prey.

It was at the apex of its jump when a ball of water exploded from the water and slammed into it. The beast was thrown onto its back, giving an involuntary yelp as it crashed into the ground. The next moment, it was on its feet, growling, searching for the foe that had the audacity to attack it. Youki simmered over the water, then coalesced as a narrow head with a long snout filled with sharp teeth rose from the water just behind the unconscious form. Turning on its slender, silver-scaled neck, the head focused its yellow-green, slitted-eyes on the beast. It drew its lips back, and hissed at him.

The beast chuckled, delighted to see a foe. Golden claws slashed through the air, heading directly towards that silvery head. Water foamed upward in a reverse fall of youki, and the head and neck vanished within the water. The eldritch claws slashed through the water, and did nothing except create small sprays of heated mist. The concentrated youki dispersed throughout the water.

Ears twitching, the beast hesitated, confused about the disappearance of its prey. Its attention drifted back to the floating body. It gathered itself to leap again.

Another ball of water threw it onto its back, even harder this time. Undeterred, the beast regained its feet. It paused, as if to think, then stood on its hind legs and ran along the bank until it was well past the floating prey. Whirling, it ran into the water, and then waited, grinning.

The water surrounding the body erupted, transforming into a long, silver-scaled body that looped around the furred body until it disappeared from the beast's view. The river youkai raised its head, hissing again, and half a dozen spheres exploded from the water in front of the head. The beast was slammed with those spheres against a tree trunk with such force that it momentarily lost consciousness. Rousing, it found itself bound to the trunk with many long, slender branches.

It flattened its ears, snarling, and struggled to break free. The branches tightened their grip. Snarling, the beast continued to struggle. It could not move more than its head or its fingers, but it had no concept of giving up. Youki flared in its claws, brightening with every beat of the beast's heart. The youki intensified, and the tree's leaves shivered as the binding branches smoldered, smoked, and then began snapping. The beast found purchase with its feet, and, with a howl, tore free.

It landed on its hands and leaped again, before whirling to lash out with a full set of claws. The willow tree's long, sweeping branches whipped up to attempt to build a defensive shield, but the claws struck straight through them and shattered the trunk behind them. Panting and growling, the beast watched as the tree fell, branches and leaves fluttering with youki, before going limp and lifeless. It sniffed, but it smelled only sap and wood and leaves. Even flavored with youki, the scents did not titillate, did not entice. It turned away, searching the air once more for the blood it craved.

The prey in the river was gone. Even the fog of youki in the water had dissipated. The beast grumbled, dropping to a crouch as a blast of wind tried to over set it. The faint suggestion of blood fogged every breath it took, but it could find no direction in which to start hunting. Growling, flexing its long claws through the earth, the beast attempted to cogitate, to determine what it should do next.

A new smell wafted by its nose. Snapping its head up, it looked for the source of that smell. A flower glimmered in the morning sun, spinning and dancing in the air. Deep pink at the base, the flower's two rows of petals shaded to white at the rounded tips. The beast stared at it as it came closer, red eyes focused on the flower; its white ears pricked forward. It raised a hand, fingers arched in clawing position, but then, slowly, it dropped its hand back to the ground. Nostrils flared as the beast took in the smell, sniffing and sniffing. The smell had nothing of blood and death in it. The smell did not rouse the beast's blood or make its awareness buzz with bliss. But, there was something about that smell. Something the beast wanted, yearned for.

The flower danced and bobbed in front of the beast's face. Not knowing or understanding what it did, the beast raised a relaxed hand. The flower settled into the palm. The beast brought the flower to its nose and sniffed deeply. The flower trembled, and then flitted away. The beast whined softly in protest as it drifted away, and then lurched to its hind feet. The flower darted away. The beast whined again and stumbled after it, reaching out. It wanted the flower back in its hand. It wanted to bury its nose in that smell again. But, the flower remained just out of reach, the delicate petals trembling in the breeze that carried it along. It moved slightly away from the river, dancing, swirling, glimmering.

And the beast followed.

... ... ...

"This would go faster, if I cut more from each plant," grumbled Miyatsu, as he set the latest stalk in the basket.

"And if you cut all the plant, then what if it doesn't grow back?" retorted Kaede, looking up from her patch on the hillside a few feet higher. "You're not supposed to be greedy, monk!"

"I wasn't attempting to be greedy," he replied, a bit huffily. Setting the knife down on top of the gathered plants, he stood up and stretched, arching his back with a groan. "Kikyo-sama," he said, looking over at the miko, who was sitting on a convenient dip in the hill, "why do you have to gather these herbs outside the village? Wouldn't it take less effort, to raise them in your garden?"

"Hah!" Kaede's jeer came from behind him, but he ignored her, preferring to keep his gaze on the woman sitting with her bow in her lap. Tilting her head up to see from under the brim of the straw hat, Kikyo gave him a lovely smile.

"These herbs don't grow well in the gardens, Miyatsu-sama," she explained, one hand idly testing the bow string. "Some things are better allowed to grow wild. Besides, a trip to gather herbs also allows me to look for signs of youkai, and sense the health of the life and ground."

"Health?" He echoed. The monk looked around. "How do you mean?"

Kikyo considered him a moment. Miyatsu had considerable power, but she had figured out some time ago, that his knowledge and skills were distinctly different from her own. "I sense the energies of the life in the ground, in the plants, in the trees, reiki or youki. Healthy life feels-abundant, green, verdant. Life that has been damaged-it's darkened; weakened." Lifting her bow, she pointed it at a series of fields down the hill, flush with growing dry land crops "Last spring, those fields and the area surrounding them were swept by a wave of frost youkai. All the sprouting seed, all the yearly growth, was killed, along with most of the life force in the ground itself. Think of an unseasonable killing frost, only worse. Just replanting wouldn't have worked-I had to perform a ceremony and call on the kami, to help me heal the land and let life return."

He turned to study the fields for a long moment, then turned back with frank admiration in his shaded eyes. "Intriguing," he said. "I never thought of the land needing healing..."

"Probably because you spend too much time looking at women," sniped Kaede. "Though I thought your kind was supposed to worry about stuff like nirvana and death and dying."

"Kaede!" exclaimed Kikyo, feeling a faint rise of heat on her cheeks, "Be polite!"

The girl looked down from her position higher on the hill. "Why? Everyone knows he's a lecher, and that Haruka wants to crawl into his bed, hoping that her father will make him marry her. And don't forget Kasumi nearly breaking her ankle two days ago when she tried to have an accident on purpose, just so he'd carry her back to the village. And-"

"Kaede Kikyo's-sister, how dare you!" Kikyo twitched as Amaya's cracked voice rang out, scathing in tone. "Shut that filthy, gossiping mouth of yours, before I shut it for you! Is this how the sister of a miko should act?"

"But, Amaya baa-chan-"

"Not another word!" Kikyo saw Amaya standing on the path, jabbing her walking stick towards her sister. "You shame your sister by such words!"

Kaede went beet red, hunching her shoulders as she pulled her gaze down into her basket. "And don't you smirk, monk!" added the old woman a moment later, wiping the slight smile from Miyatsu's face. "Don't think you can sweet-talk the maidens without consequences!"

Miyatsu heaved a visible sigh, and then leaned down and picked up the basket. Walking over to Kikyo, he set the basket down next to her, and then turned to face the scowling elder. "My dear Amaya-obaa-san, how fierce and lovely are your eyes as they snap at me in outrage!" he said, with a bow. "Truly, your fierceness in disciplining the errant is a glory to behold! How must the villagers rejoice, to have you as guardian of all that is proper and true!"

The herbalist stamped her walking stick against the ground. "Don't think your tongue can get you out of every trouble, houshi-sama," she snapped. "Now, since your back is apparently too weak to continue bending over, you can come with me and make sure the children haven't run Kazuko into the ground yet."

Without a word, Miyatsu reached for his staff that he had left besides Kikyo, and followed the old woman down the path, to the meadow where the smaller children were running around under the eyes of twelve-year-old Kazuko. Kikyo watched them go, rather bemused by the exchange of words. Amaya could be astringent and blunt, taking full advantage of the respect her age gave her, but she truly despised gossip and bullying. Amaya had said nothing to her, but Kikyo was fairly certain that the old woman was one reason there had been so little fuss in the village, when she had brought Inuyasha into her hut to tend his horrific injuries.

The thought of Inuyasha sent a pang through her heart. Biting her lip, Kikyo stared down at her bow, wondering were he was. Would he ever come back? What was he doing? Had he found someone, some thing to help him control that mad youkai within him? Was he still searching? Still running?

Was he even still alive?

"I'm sorry."

Kikyo looked up to find Kaede sitting next to her, hands clenched on her gathering basket. "Kaede?"

The girl didn't look at her. "I didn't mean to shame you, ane-sama. I just-I just don't like him."

Kikyo leaned over and hugged the girl's shoulders. "I know you didn't, imouto. Miyatsu's a gifted monk-Tsubaki might have caused a lot more damage than she did, without his help. In a fight, I'll trust him at my back any time. But, I admit, he does have his faults..."

Kaede twisted around to look at her. "Do you-like him?" she asked. "He watches you, an awful lot."

Kikyo considered her reply. "I respect his abilities. He has a generous heart, and wants to help people. He-he is a good man, Kaede."

"But, do you like him?" Kaede's one eye was anxious. "I overheard Hajime telling his friends that he wouldn't be surprised if you'd-shared blankets with the monk, while you were hunting for Inuyasha."

Kikyo stiffened, flushing with a spike of outrage and humiliation. "You believed him?" she demanded in a hissed whisper.

Kaede flinched. "Of course not, ane-sama! But, with Shikon no Tama gone, and most mikos want to marry someday, and, and with Inuyasha disappeared, I keep-I mean, people talk, you're-you're not really interested in marrying Miyatsu, are you?"

"No!" She liked Miyatsu, as a man who had helped her, who made a powerful companion in battle. She respected and admired his skills and power. But, marry him? "No, little sister," she repeated. "He's a friend. And that's all he is."

"Oh, good." Kaede looked relieved. "I'd much rather have Inuyasha for a brother-in-law, than the monk."

Kikyo felt her cheeks flame again, and looked away.

... ... ...

Warmth surrounded her, as warm as her mother's fur. Akeneka whimpered a little, remembering that her mother had left the clan-left her-after her father had been killed. She had never understood why her mother had wanted to leave her kits, even if they were close to grown up...

"Little vixen," murmured a soft voice, "be you awake? I have a healing potion for you, can you sit up."

She opened her gummy, sandy eyes, blinking slowly. Her first impression was green-a pale, striated green, seemingly lit from outside. She tried to move, and shrieked as pain flamed through her foreleg.

"Ah, sorry, little vixen-I should have warned you. Your right foreleg is badly injured. Gently now. May I assist you?" A pale, slender hand tipped with claws swam into her view. Struggling, she lifted her head, though just that small motion made her feel weak and dizzy. She struggled to focus her vision. A more or less human face seemed to be peering down at her from a great distance, though the eyes were wrong.

"Who-?" Her voice was less than a whisper.

"Ah. I be Chireiyo, little vixen. I have some small skill at healing. May I assist you?"

"I ... feel ... sick... leg ... hurts ..."

"I have a potion that can help, little vixen. May I help you sit up?"

It was too much effort to keep her head up. She let it sink back down, closing her eyes. "Name ... Akeneka."

"Thank-you for sharing your name with me, Akeneka-san. May I help you sit up, so that you may drink the potion?"

"If ... you ... want..."

A hand touched her head. "Please do not sleep yet, Akeneka-san. I will help you roll onto your stomach." The hand slid under the side of her head touching the soft surface she way laying on. She felt something else sliding beneath her right elbow. Pain stabbed again. She whimpered. "I know," said the soft, gentle voice. "It hurts. I will try to keep your leg from moving much as you sit up." The hands shifted positions. "Now. It's going to hurt, but try to roll to your right. Use your hind legs ... easy now, I'm just helping ... easy ... "

Akeneka cried out as she came onto her belly, her shattered limb shifting despite the stranger's care. Eyes clenched shut, the young vixen whimpered and panted, her black nose nearly touching the ground as she shivered. The hands left her, and she felt dropped into confusing whirl of cold and heat, stabs of nausea bobbing around and over pulsating agony. Make it go away, she thought. Just make it go away...

A clean, sharp odor penetrated her confusion. She lifted her head a little, nostrils flaring as she took in the smell. It was clearly some mixture of herbs, but it also, somehow, seemed to speak of mountain winds, softly rippling brooks, and warm, clean earth. Youki, warm and light, was part of that smell, and she could not but lift her head a bit further, nose drinking in that entrancing smell.

A liquid moved underneath her questing nose. "Here, little one," came the same, gentle voice. "This should ease the pain, and restore some of your strength. Drink well."

Eyes still closed, Akeneka lowered her head until her chin whiskers encountered the liquid. She ventured a small, quick lick. The liquid dissolved on her tongue, as cool and clean to her taste as to her nose. She lapped again, and swallowed. Her body seemed to absorb that little bit of liquid instantly, and demanded more. Her nose twitched as she breathed in the scent again, and then, she lowered her muzzle a fraction, and began to drink with increasing enthusiasm and strength. Before she knew it, her tongue rasped against something smooth and hard.

Akeneka lifted her head, feeling stronger by the moment. Her tongue flicked out to clean the liquid from her whiskers. Her nausea disappeared, and the agonizing pain faded to a strong ache.

This time, when she opened her eyes, they focused immediately. A humanlike youkai sat in front of her, with straight, silver-gray hair falling to his waist. He was dressed in shades of beige and blue-green, and his eyes were a gentle blue. He smiled as he met her eyes. "That is better, is it not, Akeneka-san?"

"Yes ... thank-you..." She blinked several times. "Who ... are you? And ... where am I?"

"I am Chireiyo, little vixen-a healer. I happened to be visiting Bokuseno, and so agreed to help when news of the trouble between the kitsunes and hanyo came. Bokuseno-sama is graciously allowing everyone to recuperate under his protection."

Bokuseno. The name seemed to resonate, and then, in a flash, she remembered:

_Soaring through the trees in the early dawn, Akeneka simmered with fury towards Rikaru Two-Tails, and concerned about the poisoned, ill-treated hanyo. What right had Rikaru, to treat him so? He hadn't been doing anything! It wasn't his fault he was a mere hanyo!_

_She followed the traces of youki as the sun rose, noting with relief that the traces were growing more strongly. Yet, she was also puzzled, because the youki seemed to be-changing. Darkening. Perhaps it was just a side effect of recovering from the poison? Though he must also be angry with his treatment-hopefully he did not blame her for bringing Rikaru down on him!_

_The glint of silver hair caught her eyes, and she banked, flaring her wings and extending her legs as she aimed for a high branch. On the ground, she saw the hanyo-splattered with blood and surrounded by feathers-glance up. She landed, and called out to him, wondering why his eyes had appeared to change color. "Inuyasha? Are you feeling better? I'm so sorry about Rikaru-"_

_He grinned up at her, and jumped._

"No!" Akeneka lurched backwards into a sitting position, eyes wide and ears flat, and every muscle aquiver. "Why? Why did he attack me!" Scatter shot pieces of memory ricocheted through her brain-the abrupt, agonizing pain as youki tore through her wing. The terror and effort of struggling to gain altitude as he laughed below her. A broad feathered back beneath her, sliding, falling away. A desperate attempt to hang on, failing. And then, falling, falling with nothing but air and trees beneath her, knowing that she would die. "Why didn't I die? I was going to die!"

"Gently, little vixen, gently." She looked towards the voice, shaking and panting. Chireiyo looked at her with sympathy on his face, one hand extended. Carefully, he touched the side of her muzzle. When she didn't react, he gently reached up and stroked and stroked her forehead. She pressed against the caress, shuddering, and then collapsed back to the ground, rolling into a tight curl, unable to stop either the shivers or the whimpering.

How long she continued in that state, she didn't know. But, gradually, she realized that the hand was stroking her fur in long, gentle strokes. The warmth beneath her had not abated; the motion on her fur was comforting, even reassuring. Akeneka found her muscles relaxing, her chest easing. She sighed, feeling the paralyzing fear leaving. The hand stopped stroking her. "Better?"

She looked up and nodded her head. As he sat back, she straightened and carefully sat up, keeping her weight over her good foreleg. "Thank-you, Chireiyo-san," said Akeneka, dipping her head. He bowed back. "Can you tell me how I got here? And..." Her throat tightened, as she recalled the fleeting glimpse of Shinkubi's falling body. "...the others-how are they?"

"Ah. Myoga-ji-san roused the forest. The great trees could not stop the hanyo entirely, but they could deflect him. When you fell, Wind Along the Stream's spells slowed your fall. Once the hanyo fell under Bokuseno's Flower of Enchantment, other youkai were persuaded to convey you and the other kitsunes to Bokusenko."

"So-so everyone's all right?" she asked, hoping.

Chireiyo shook his head, eyes darkening with sorrow. "One kitsune was dead before the winds bore him to the ground. Shinkubi, his brothers said."

Akeneka closed her eyes, clenching her teeth together, trying not to wail. She had liked Shinkubi, and it was obvious to her that he had liked her: why he had never made any move to court her, she had never really understood.

"His two brothers will be fine," the healer continued gently. "Eijimaru has badly wrenched shoulders, and both are exhausted, but they will need little more than sleep and food."

She made herself breath, deeply. "R-rikaru?" she whispered, looking back at Chireiyo. "Th-the hanyo?"

He gave a long sigh. "Both present ... difficulties. The two-tail's youki is unstable: I have given him a potion that I hope will stabilize it and give his body a chance to recover. The hanyo ... Bokuseno has him under control, but his taiyoukai blood still overwhelms his human side. The blood was sealed, to keep the two halves in balance, but the seal is broken. Myoga and Bokuseno are trying to find a way to mend or replace that seal, but..." The healer looked away.

Akeneka's furry brow wrinkled. "I-I don't understand. A seal? Why does a hanyo need a seal on his youkai blood?"

The healer looked back at her; his expression haunted. "A hanyo is a creature of mixtures-of reiki and youki, of human mortality and youkai longevity. No two hanyo are alike, but most, at least, are born with their human and youkai parts in stable balance. But, Inuyasha-sama's father was not just taiyoukai, but one of the most powerful taiyoukai ever to exist. The human soul cannot control the unfettered instincts and lust of the taiyoukai blood. The Inu no Taisho apparently caused the greater part of his son's youki to be sealed before his birth. Somehow, somewhen, that seal has broken. If he cannot be resealed, the boy's soul-and his sanity-will be devoured."

"But ... but he was lucid, when I first met him," she protested. "Sick with poison, but lucid. Rikaru's attack couldn't have done that much damage-how could it have broken this 'seal'?"

"I don't know, little vixen. I only know that, if Bokuseno and Myoga can't find an answer ... Inuyasha-sama will have to die."

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**Notes:** (translations based on information on ear-tweak . com )  
reiki - spiritual energy  
youki - youkai's energy  
ane-sama - older (lady) sister  
imouto - younger sister  
houshi - monk  
sama - lord/lady/reverend

Drat. I had most of this written over a month ago, but things intervened (real-life).

This story was nominated for the 1st Quarter 2010 'Best Drama' at the Inuyasha FanGuild. Thanks, JRMaxwell and Possessed!


	17. To Fail

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Author's Note: **Alas, alack! I know it's been a long while since this was updated. But rejoice! I'm dedicating November to working on this story, using the "National Novel Write Month" as an incentive to make a major jump forward (maybe even finish!) Will I get 50,000 words written this month? Will I get this story finished? In a few weeks, we'll know!

Meanwhile, a brief taste, in the form of a drabble written in September...

* * *

**To Fail**

It was a word which should have no meaning to him.

He was ancient and powerful. From the merest whisper of wind, or the drop of rain on a leaf, he could discern news of the world, near and far. Even removed, a piece of himself was still so potent that it could contain the power of a tai-youkai's fang. A single flower, imbued with his will, could calm the wildest blood. All who knew him respected him, and would travel days to seek his advice.

But, as he considered the bipedal form slumped against his bark, as he rustled his leaves in a binding spell, as he insinuated finer-than-hair rootlets through cloth and skin, the massive magnolia felt an emotion that he had to seek far into the rings of memory to name.

Because, in the sampling of the hanyo's blood, he tasted the fading of the human heart. His spells could calm the lust, soothe the desire, but they only slowed the shredding of the subsumed awareness. The seal that should have been there was shattered: the physical and psychic link with the sire's fang was—missing.

Bokuseno named his feeling.

The fate of the hanyo would have no impact on his physical state.

But to fail the trust of an old friend, should he be unable to find a way to restore Inuyasha's sanity …

He dreaded it.

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**Author's Note: **This is a very short drabble that was written for the prompt 'Dread,' for the LiveJournal community "Inuyasha Insomnia FanFiction". It was originally posted on September 27, 2010, and took third.


	18. Moonfall

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter 17: Moonfall**

Cheiriyo's steps were reluctant, as he walked towards the magnolia's trunk. His patients were mostly sequestered near the outer reach of the great tree's branches, warmly cocooned as they slept to heal their exhaustion and injuries. Of the imp and the four kitsune, Cheiriyo had concern for only one. The oldest kitsune had apparently attempted the firefox transformation—a highly dangerous magic that even a five-tailed fox should hesitate to attempt. The youkai healer had done his best for the kitsune, but his survival was yet in doubt. The river spirit which had rescued him was still tucked closely around the kitsune, his own water nature negating the unstable, fiery youki of the two-tailed fox. That spirit was not entirely comfortable in his position, but it was obvious from the sly smirks, that he intended to be well compensated for his actions.

But, he had not yet tended the young son of his once friend. Bokuseno had told him to concentrate on the five youkai, while the magnolia succored the hanyo. Cheiriyo had been mildly disappointed not to have the opportunity to partly repay a long-standing debt, but the needs of the injured youkai had thoroughly occupied his mind and energies, to the point that he had not thought of the hanyo for most of the day.

Until Bokuseno had called to him, and required him to make the potion he now carried.

The youkai's hands tightened on the container he carried, shaped from a small branch of the ancient tree. He tasted the fetid breath of the nearby swamp, and buried the urge to transform and flee this place. He belonged in the mountains and valleys, not within the thickets of an ancient forest. The open fields of his precious herbs, the rocky slopes that were running fields to his agile feet—that is where he belonged.

But, he had come here for a reason, and could not now leave.

Moving around the last of the bushes that sheltered under the massive tree's benign protection, Chireiyo came into the clear space surrounding the trunk itself. His eyes went to the hanyo slumped against the tree. The clawed hands still held the flower to his face, but he was now bound by more than scent. Indeed, he seemed less slumped against the tree, than half-absorbed by it. Slender lengths of wood curled about his arms, his chest, his legs. Most were covered in bark, extending from the trunk itself. But, others—the thinnest—were pale, growing up from the ground itself—or rather, the roots below the ground. As Chireiyo drew closer, he could see that those pale strands did more than simply hold the unmoving hanyo. Filaments sank through cloth and skin, and he could sense a slow drift of jyaki being drawn from the body and down those fine threads. He suppressed a shudder, and forced his gaze to move to the main trunk.

"Bokuseno-sama?"

The bark rippled, transforming into a long-nosed, deeply wrinkled face with heavyset eyes. "Cheiriyo-san. The potion is ready?"

"Yes, Bokuseno-sama. But…" He hesitated, not wanting to say anything that might impugn the ancient tree's judgement. "I—"

"Potion?" interrupted a tiny voice. "What potion?"

Cheiriyo blinked, soft blue eyes focusing on a spot of youki arching towards him. Without thinking about it, he shifted his position at the last moment, catching the tiny youkai in his hand. "Myoga-san, I did not know you were here."

The flea bounced on his palm. "Of course I am here! You know the master said I was to look after Inuyasha-sama! If it hadn't been for me, he'd still be running around transformed, and those idiotic kitsunes would be dead! Now what is this potion you two are talking about?" Turning, Myoga spotted the sealed container, and jumped on top of its lid. "What is it?" He sniffed. "I can't smell it."

"It is sealed, Myoga-san," said Cheiriyo quietly, his hand tightening.

"I can see that!" Myoga retorted, hopping on the wooden stopper. "What have you been brewing up now, you old grass-eater? And what is it for?"

Cheiriyo looked away. "Bokuseno-sama requested I prepare this … for the hanyo. It is … you know the potion which no one speaks of … the black one..."

"You mean Moonfall—what!" For such a tiny being, Myoga had oversized volume. "Why are you trying to kill him! He's only hanyo, not youkai! You can't do this—I won't let you!"

"Myoga."

Bokuseno's voice was a dark, low thrum, echoed by a faint pulse of youki that whispered of menace and disapproval. Myoga jumped and whirled to face the ancient tree, shrinking in on himself, all six limbs quivering. Cheiriyo twitched himself, for though the amount of youki was small, it glimmered with the signature of a being much stronger than himself.

"We do not intend to kill the hanyo."

"But—"

Bokuseno overrode his attempt to protest. "Moonfall can kill youkai. This much is true. It is not my first choice, nor even my third, or fifth. But, I have failed to reseal the hanyo's blood."

"What?" yelped the flea. "How can you fail? Your wood seals the master's swords, the Tensaiga, the Tessaiga! You once bound and sealed a taiyoukai! How can you fail—surely, it is not the human blood which defeats you?"

"No." Branches creaked softly, as if the tree stretched. "That which his father used to seal the blood is—missing. What—"

"Missing!" the flee interrupted. "How can the black pearl be missing! You agreed that the safest place to put it was in his eye! How could it go—"

"Myoga."

The flea flinched, crouched, and radiated embarrassment. Cheiriyo wondered, curious, just what it was that Myoga had revealed. But, he reminded himself not to show interest. It was, obviously, a secret belonging to the old Inu no Taisho. Such as him had no business meddling in the affairs of the dogs.

Bokuseno picked up the line of his explanation. "What is left of the seal keeps trying to reweave itself, even without the—seed. It repels my touch. It repels my attempt to place a second seal. I might overpower it, but I fear what it would do to the hanyo."

"Your attempt to drain his jyaki is not sufficient?" asked Cheiriyo.

The branches creaked again. "His body resists. The draw … is too slow. The human soul is eroding—I fear it could die before the youkai blood is sufficiently weakened for his mind to reassert control. If that happens … then he will remain as he is … until he dies."

"No! He can't! You know the master didn't want that for him, Bokuseno! That's one of the reasons he had Tessaiga crafted the way it was! Why he had the death-spells set to—"

"Enough, Myoga—do not speak of what we both know."

There were clearly secrets here. Cheiriyo might owe a life-debt to the departed taiyoukai, but he had no desire to be involved in the affairs of the powerful. "Bokuseno-sama," he said respectfully, meeting the magnolia's 'eyes.' "The potion is ready, at the strength you designated. I—bow to your judgment, that this is the best chance for the hanyo to survive sane."

"No! You can't! I won't let—eep!"

Dulled claws caught the flea from the container's cap, squeezing just enough to keep the flea from escaping. Cheiriyo paced forward until he was less than a length from the main trunk, holding the flea out. "Perhaps, Myoga-chan should be prevented from attempting to interfere?"

"Of course." The tree youkai extended a limber branch towards the wriggling flea. Myoga yelled and protested, to no avail. "Accept my apologies, old friend," he said, drawing back the branch, which now ended in a tiny cage. "We owe debt to your one-time master, as much as any. We will do the best we can for his son."

Cheiriyo waited for the flea to lapse into silence, which he did—eventually. "What do you want me to do?"

Bokuseno did not immediately reply. The cracks of stretching wood fibers caused Cheiriyo to glance at the hanyo. The rootlets withdrew from the hanyo's body, even as the wood, and bark imprisoning him thickened visibly. The younger youkai felt the hanyo's aura diminish as Bokuseno drew more of his substance about the transformed body, and he tried to hide a sense of relief, as the dark, raging jyaki of the hanyo lessened. Soon, the hanyo was entirely encased in Bokuseno' powerful wood, save for his head and neck. The hanyo had twitched once or twice, but his mad attention never wavered from the flower which remained outside the wood.

"That will suffice," said Bokuseno. "Give him the potion, Cheiriyo-san."

Cheiriyo forced himself forward, uncomfortable even with what little aura still radiated from the hanyo. It was so filled with bloodlust and hunger, so opposite of his own nature, that it almost hurt to approach it. And he yet hated what he had created, for it was a poison of great rarity, the very mention of which could make most self-aware youkai flinch. Few knew its composition: fewer yet knew the secret of how to compound it, and thrice fewer would admit to knowing it, for fear of being hunted down and killed, by any that might consider them a potential enemy. It didn't have to kill, but in some ways that made it worse.

He kneeled by the imprisoned hanyo, trying not to shudder at the smell of bloodlust and mindless rage. "You are—sure, Bokuseno-sama? It will not—harm you?"

"Its effect on such as myself, is minor. Proceed."

Cheiriyo took a grip on his nerves. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he unsealed the container, and then leaned forward and pressed the opening against hanyo's lips. The hanyo did not react. A low rumble vibrated through the wood, and the eyes widened, still unseeing, and the lips parted. Will-less, the hanyo drank the black liquid that sparked with intermittent pink, draining the contents as Cheiriyo tilted the container. Pulling back, the youkai quickly sealed the container, before letting his breath out. Despite his precaution, he still caught a whiff of the potion, and tried not to wince as his nose burned. Standing up, he backed away, looking for the first sign of a reaction.

Moments passed. He tried not to fidget, tried not to hear the flea's soft whimpering.

The hanyo jerked. His head snapped back, red eyes widening, mouth dropping open. His youki pulsed once, twice, and then collapsed. The hanyo screamed, writhing—

—As his hair began to turn black.

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**Author's Note: ** Alas for my plans! As I mentioned last chapter, I planned to spend the month of November trying to write 50,000 words and finish this series, as part of the National Novel Writing Month. I did well enough the first week, writing a bit over 11,000 words. But, then, I fell sick with pneumonia. I was pretty much out of everything for several weeks (no, not severe enough for hospitalization, just exhaustion, shortness of breath, and too many sets of antibiotics). I was still recovering from that when I had a job interview for a contrat-to-hire position, followed up less than a week later with a job offer, and a week after that, the start of my first paying job in over a year.

I do know where this story is going, and the stopping point (it's not the last of this series of stories, by any means), but I need to get the outline finished (I actually went through it all in my head one afternoon while I was sick, but it's half-forgotten, drat it!), and then write the chapters. There's enough currently written for at least 4-5 chapters, but the first week, I was concentrating on the Inuyasha thread, and I really feel the need to get some more development work on what's going on in the village, so I'm not quite ready to post anything more than this. Hopefully in another week or so...


	19. Musings

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter 18: Musings**

Hajime looked up from rubbing his aching, mutilated hand, and hid his sneer as he spotted the monk coming down the path, his arm around the miko's waist. She moved with an utter lack of grace as she limped along, supported by monk and by staff, and he wondered what he had ever seen in her. What a fool she was, endangering the village by dallying with a worthless hanyo, and then abandoning her duties entirely to go search for him when he disappeared. If she'd killed the hanyo when he first appeared, as she should have, none of the near-disasters would have happened. They wouldn't have needed a miracle to bring back the dead, because they wouldn't have been killed in the first place. They wouldn't have had that hanyo nearly slaughtering the villagers, because he never should have lived.

And now she was flirting with that monk. A monk who was openly friendly with a youkai: and who was preying on the vulnerable girls of the village. What did they see in that shave-headed, lascivious monk, that they couldn't see in him?

"Hajime."

He managed not to jump. "Father," he acknowledged, turning to face the headman.

"Do you have the tallies for the fish-ponds?"

"Yes, sir." The young man rattled off the figures, suppressing the resentment that he should be stuck with such an unimportant job.

He had intended to become a samurai. He had dreamed of winning wealth and fame, of extending his family's holdings, of improving their rank within the larger domain. His father had successfully petitioned the lord for training, and for three short, glorious years, he had learned the way of the warrior.

And then, everything had fallen apart. An accident in training, had taken half his sword hand. He had been blamed for the accident. Mutilated, he had been sent home in disgrace.

He had no future. He was the third son, with no chance of becoming headman, unless something happened to his stupid, phlegmatic oldest brother. His second oldest brother was usually away on one of his trading trips, and claimed he had no interest in leading the family; but that disinterest, Hajime was sure, would last only as long as the eldest brother lived.

The miko had been sympathetic, at first. She had expressed regret for having no magic to restore his missing thumb and index finger. She had examined his mutilated hand without showing any signs of revulsion, and had even offered to write to the teachers at her temple, to ask whether they had any suggestions that might improve his ability to use the remaining fingers. When he had sought to show his appreciation for her efforts, she had given him a smile.

At first.

Then, the taijiya came and went, leaving the Shikon no Tama in her hands. Everything changed. The village became the target for youkai attacks. Her smile disappeared, and she had no time for a man who was still struggling to learn to cast a spear left-handed, who was told off to stand guard on the women and children, rather than defending the village on the outskirts.

He didn't know, originally, the full power of the Shikon no Tama. That changed when the young lord of a distant domain came through and tried to steal the jewel. When he'd learned that even a human could make use of the jewel; he'd been tempted. A jewel that could restore his hand, giving him back his sword and his skill. He dreamed again, and spent his nights plotting how to persuade Kikyo to give him the jewel.

He had tried to woo her. She was beautiful, if you knew how to look at her. He would make her his wife, she would give him the jewel, and he would be a powerful, wealthy samurai. She and her sister would have anything they desired.

She had refused him. And then had marched straight to his father, Yasuo, and told him that Hajime was obsessed by the jewel, and should be sent away. And his father had agreed! He'd been sent off with his brother on one of his interminable trading trips, and when he returned, his last chance for power and wealth was vanished, and Kikyo was spending her time caring for a half-dead freak.

"Hajime!"

This time, he did jump. Yasuo gave him a look, and sighed. "Go help your brother clean the harnesses."

Clean harnesses? That was a boy's job.

Bitterness frothed within his heart, but Hajime kept his thoughts off his face, Keeping to the role of the obedient younger son, he bowed to his father, and obeyed.

… … …

"Fruit. Fruit. Root. Fruit. Fruit!" Jaken pawed through the heap of food, then sat down with a small thump. "Bah! What kind of food is this! Doesn't they realize we were nearly killed by that crazy hanyo! I need real food to heal! The least he could provide is some lizards and fish!"

Fuming, he grabbed his staff and pulled it across his lap. He shouldn't be here! He should be traveling back to rejoin his master, before the panthers attacked. Where had the fool idea come from, that he should strive to shame the despised hanyo into going to the side of his glorious brother? Of course, the miserable wretch had to be given the chance to prove that he had some shred of inu-youkai sense of pride and honor. And it went without saying, that his glorious lord could not be expected to hunt down his brother for such a cause. He had at least found the hanyo, but who could have imagined him so mad—or so powerful? Jaken remembered the utterly insane grin plastered on that red-eyed face, and the daunting aura that had surrounded him. He wasn't sure how any of them had survived that fight. He didn't remember much of anything past the point where Rikaru had shrieked and burst into flames. He had panicked and jumped clear of his ride, only to see the trees further away than they had been the first time. Clutching the staff close to him, he had closed his eyes, too terrified to scream, knowing that his luck wouldn't hold a second time. He had felt the wind against his tumbling body, and the fire burning his clothes and his body, and as consciousness faded, despaired as he realized he had failed his great, terrible lord…

"Oh!" The soft exclamation drew him out of his broody thoughts. Looking up, he saw a slim figure softly illumined by the glimmering green light emanating from the branches overhead. "I didn't know—may I ask who you are, elder one?"

Jaken blinked a few times, taking in the view, which was not unlovely, even in comparison with his incomparable lord. She was remarkably pretty, despite the flaws. The shadow under her purple eyes emphasized a sense of fragility, as did the paleness of her triangular face. The dark, rich red of her hair was cut chin-length in front, and fell in a thick, straight mass to her waist in the back. Her ears were small, daintily pointed, and the claws visible on the one hand she held up protectively were a purple to match her eyes. Her kimono was darker purple, almost black, scattered with maple leaves that shifted in color from gold to dark red, while the sash was a startling white. Dainty paws peeped below the hem of the kimono, and a white-tipped, red tail trailed behind. The worst flaw in her appearance was the empty sleeve and the awkward drape of the kimono, where it hung across her bound arm, and the empty sleeve.

"I am Jaken," he said belatedly. "You …" he hesitated, searching his somewhat blurry memory. "You're Akeneka."

She gave him a small smile, then carefully knelt onto one of the thick pads of dark green moss set around the food. "Yes, I am." The purple eyes studied him with a lively curiosity. "May I ask why you are here, Jaken-sama? Are you a friend of Bokuseno-sama, or Chereiyo-sama?"

He bristled, just a bit. Friend of a tree, or a mere healer? "I am a vassal to the great and powerful Sesshomaru-sama," he declaimed. "He who is the most splendid and terrible youkai of the Western Lands."

Her eyes widened. "Sesshomaru-sama? The elder son of the late Inu no Taisho? The brother of Inuyasha-sama?"

"Half-brother!" he snapped, glaring at her. "Do not speak of them as equals! The hanyo is as mud beneath the great lord's feet! Do not think of them as alike!"

She lowered her gaze demurely. "I meant no disrespect to your lord, Jaken-dono." She seemed ready to say something else, but, then, obviously changed her mind. Reaching forward, she plucked a golden pear from the pile. "Mmmm," she sniffed the fruit with apparent pleasure. "This smells so good! I do wish the others would hurry!"

"You're always impatient, Akeneka," came a cross voice. Jaken glanced at the two newcomers, recognizing them more from their auras than their forms as two of the other kitsunes.

"I am only impatient when I'm hungry, Eijimaru," she retorted with a smile. "Come, it all smells wonderful!"

"Who gives a dewclaw about food," snarled the slighter of the two. "Or don't you care, that our brother is dead?"

Akekane flinched, as from a blow, and the pear fell into her lap. "Of course I care, Masaki! I liked Shinbuki, a lot! He was so good at telling stories, and I—he seemed to like me, too. I mean, I kept hoping he'd come over to my d—" She clapped her hand over her mouth suddenly, tears glinting on her cheeks.

"What do you mean, you 'liked' him," snarled Misaki, stomping over to tower over her. "Everyone knows you have only eyes for Rikaru Two-Tails!"

She spluttered. "That's not true! I liked Rikaru, but I liked others, too! Especially Shinbuki!"

"Leave her be, little brother," said Eijimaru, sinking down onto another one of the mossy pads. "Shinkubi was too much in awe of Rikaru-sensei to press a suit, once it became obvious that Rikaru intended to lay claim to her. She's not to blame for that."

"She's to blame for trying to help that hanyo!" Masaki left her and stalked over to the other side of the circle, away from her, his tail twitching angrily. "And what were you doing with that half-dog, anyway? Attracted to dirty blood?"

She flushed. "Of course not! Myoga jii-chan listened to the trees talking about the disturbance, and asked me to run to Takaikatsura, and then later to follow the hanyo's scent. We found him: he was sick with poison. Myoga jii-chan asked me to go collect some herbs: when I got back, Rikaru had him down and pinned with those rocks. Rikaru taunted him, and Inuyasha bit him, and got free. I thought he would kill Rikaru, so I jumped down and got between them, and asked him not to kill. I think he was starting to calm down, but then you three ran into the clearing, and he fled."

"A hanyo overcame Rikaru-sensei? You want us to believe a dirty-blood is stronger than a two-tails?"

"Inuyasha-sama killed your brother, and you still believe that such as he can only be weak?"

Every head snapped up. Cheiriyo walked into the clearing, trailed by a furry, tailed youkai carrying a tray. The imp, not much taller than Cheiriyo's knee, set down the tray, and scampered away. The healer sighed and kneeled on the one unclaimed pad, which put him between Jaken and Masaki.

"I mourn the loss of your brother, Eijimaru-san, Masaki-san," he said formally, bowing. "I regret I could not help him, but he was dead when he was brought her."

"We don't blame you, healer," said Eijimaru, quickly. "The only fault lies with the hanyo." He frowned. "I only want to know why the hanyo still lives."

Masaki twitched suddenly, and leaned towards the healer, sniffing. "And why do you stink of human? And why does it smell like that hanyo, but not?"

The blue-eyed youkai only sighed. "Any hanyo is a mix of human and youkai blood. Under … certain conditions, a hanyo may transform into either his human, or his youkai form. Inuyasha-sama is … currently human."

The dark-haired kitsune grinned and leapt to his feet. "Good! Where is he—I fancy some human meat to spice up my meal! With me, brother!"

The ground shook, and a cold wind spiralled down from above, rippling with leaves and several magnolia flowers. "Do not test my welcome, kitsunes," said Bokuseno, his voice dark and hollow on the freezing air. "The hanyo is under my protection."

"Why?" demanded Masaki, his eyes starting to redden. Fire flickered about his clenched hands. "He killed our brother! I will kill him!"

"I permit no blood to be shed beneath my branches."

"Fine! Then I'll burn him to ashes!" The fire about his hands blazed burned higher. "If you want a piece of him, Ejimaru, you'd better get off your fat ass and sniff him out, before I find him!"

"Calm down, younger brother," said Eijimaru, scrambling to his feet. "This isn't the place or time." Vaulting over the center, he grabbed his brother's hands. "Bokuseno-sama's as strong as Taikamasura. Don't argue with him."

"What are you, a coward?" Masaki shoved his brother, sending him tumbling. "Shinbuki's dead, and his killer is here, helpless!" He whirled and advanced on Cheiriyo, fire extending up his arms. "And you, healer—you show me were he is, or I'll show you how fast my fire can burn your flesh off your bones!" He reached for the healer, his fire turning white, heat pulsing from it as it flared. "Tell—"

A flower fell on his head, freezing him in mid-reach. A cascade of leaves showered down. They clung to his face, his hands, his clothes. Wherever they touched, the fire vanished. As the last leaf fell, all the leaves shivered, and began to glow blue. They expanded, touched each other, and merged into a whole, spreading until only the kitsune's face was uncovered. Thickening, they darkened to a deep brown. The aura faded, and then, the flower wilted, and fell apart. Masaki gave a small, gurgling gasp, and fell over, his eyes blank.

"Brother!" Eijimaru scrambled on hands and knees to his brother's side. "Masaki!" He grabbed the covered shoulders, shook them, and then tried to grab the edge of the thin wood about the kitsune's face and pull it back. It didn't budge. Whirling, his yellow-green eyes wide with horror, he stared towards the distant trunk and shouted. "What did you do to him? Let him go!"

"Bokuseno-sama's power to dampen and shield youki is unmatched," said Chireiyo, sounding tired. "A sheath, made from his branches, can control the power of a taiyoukai's sword. Your brother is only subdued, Eijimaru-san."

"For how long? You can't leave him like this!"

"Until the hanyo is no longer under my protection."

"But that's not fair!"

The air stirred again. "What is fair, young kitsune? This is my place: you were succored here, made welcome here. Your brother sought harm to one I have promised protection—I stopped him. As I will stop you, if you choose anger."

Eijimaru remained still a moment longer, then crumpled to a seated position. He buried his face in his arms. "He's just upset. He's grieving—we're grieving. We lost our brother. Don't blame him for his anger. He just … he just …"

"What is blame?" answered the tree. "I protect the hanyo. The kitsune threatened him: threatened also the healer, who is my guest. I stopped him. That is all."

Silence fell.

… … …

The thin crescent of the waning moon, barely drifting above the horizon, almost exactly matched the shape of the crescent on his brow. Seated on a rock on the edge of a cliff, Sesshomaru eyed it, and then drew Tensaiga, to examine the pale blade under the faint moonlight.

Unlike Tessaiga's default form, there were no flaws on Tensaiga's surface. The blade rode lightly in his hand, perfectly balanced, a perfect heft and length for his height. Even the edge looked perfect—keen and razor sharp.

Except that it cut nothing.

It was not dull: it was worse than dull. It didn't slice flesh or even impact it: instead, it acted as flesh was made of air.

A blade that would not cut.

He sheathed the useless blade, ignoring the faintest of twitches as his hand left the hilt. He knew that he sometimes thought that he could feel a vague yearning from the sword, but he told himself that it was only the foolish fancy of the youth that he no longer desired to be. The youth that believed and hoped that his father had cared and planned for his future. The youth that believed that even dead, his father would leave him clues on how to discover and master his ultimate strength.

Fantasies.

Sesshomaru breathed out, striving to dismiss the bitter thoughts from his mind. It was unwise; to dwell on disappointed dreams, when the panther threat was yet to be dealt with. He knew where the panthers were gathering. He had given thought to taking the attack to them, but had chosen, for now, to wait.

There was, after all, the half-breed to consider. Jaken had taken off to locate Inuyasha and bring him to the battle. It would be interesting to see whether the imp were clever enough to persuade the hanyo—and if the hanyo would be brave enough to face the challenge to their great sire's blood.

Discomfort trickled back into his thoughts, and he wondered if Inuyasha had gotten to Bokuseno yet. He had meant to keep track of the hanyo's progress, but the silver hawk's arrival and death had changed his plan. Preparing to meet the challenge was more important than trying to watch over an idiotic hanyo who had a most annoying tendency to survive anything and everything thrown at him. Inuyasha would get to Bokuseno, who would—if anyone could—provide an answer.

If he couldn't? Sesshomaru thought, and then mentally shrugged. The panther attack might prove a boon to that wretched half-blood. The hanyo could give into the bloodlust and help destroy the panthers. If they overwhelmed him because he wasn't strong enough—well, he, Sesshomaru, would make sure his killers died in their turn. If Inuyasha survived … he would kill the wretch if absolutely necessary.

Not that either solution tasted satisfactory.

Youki stirred in the edge of the woods to the east. Sesshomaru came to his feet, contemplated air and aether, and would have groaned, had he been any less than perfect.

Royakan, again.

With friends.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Feh. All too slowly, this story is getting updated. This is still mostly stuff from the abortive attempt to finish the story last November, cleaned up somewhat for publication. In the next chapter (which hopefully will take less time to post), I'll finally move back to Inuyasha's situation...


	20. Trappings of Dawn

**__****Disclaimer:**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

* * *

**Chapter 19: Trappings of Dawn**

Inuyasha felt as if he were trying to turn himself inside out. The only thing in existence was his nausea and his aching ribs and stomach muscles, as the latter convulsed again and again. How long it lasted, he never knew. All he really perceived was that his next moment of awareness was of a damp cloth passing over his face.

Bile rose in his throat, and he tried to roll onto his side. Hands touched him. He would have flinched from those hands, except he could barely move. Curling up on his side as best he could, he waited numbly for the nausea to wax until the next paroxysm, or to wane.

It faded, enough to let his fogged mind make other observations. He was exhausted. He hurt, in every muscle, in every bone, in every inch of skin. And his senses were off: his ears felt stuffed, his nose nonexistent: and his eyes—he didn't want to open them. In fact, his senses felt as if he were human—

What? Inuyasha struggled to feel his hands, tried to make them respond, tried to make fists. He felt movement, felt pressure against his palms, but it wasn't the pressure of four pointed claws. Only fingertips. He tried to twitch his ears, and nothing happened.

His eyes popped open. His vision was blurred and foggy, but slowly, as he blinked rapidly, it cleared. He brought a hand up, and examined its clawless fingers. That hand, shaking, he moved up to the side of his head, searching for ears. He found the one at the angle of his jaw, and could not keep back the tiny whimper.

His human night? Why was he just waking up, why did he feel so sick, why couldn't he remember turning human? Why did his throat feel so raw and tight?

And why was the faint light so green?

"Inuyasha?"

The voice was a stranger's, and there was a hand on his shoulder, lightly touching, but strong. The fear of being trapped within his human body and faced with a foe flared. Fighting both panic and the aching pain of his abused torso, Inuyasha struggled to breathe deeply. "Do not be afraid, Inuyasha," continued the voice. "Your father was a friend of mine."

"I - am - not - afraid!" Inuyasha denied between short, shallow gasps. "Where - am - I?"

"Somewhere safe," said the voice. "Would you like to sit up? I believe the worst effects of the draught are over."

Draught? What draught? The question flickered briefly through his mind, but more important was the horrid awareness that he was human in proximity to a stranger, and therefore, in acute danger. He struggled to sit up, his arms trembling as he struggled to press himself to a sitting position. Two hands tried to guide his body. He wanted to twist away, but his body did not work. The nausea started to return. He gritted his teeth, against the nausea, and against the panic that screamed 'get away!'. Breathing as shallowly as he could, Inuyasha made himself stop struggling, accept the stronger hands that were touching him, moving him. He had to wait; he told himself. Wait until he knew where he was, until his body had recovered from whatever it was. He could be patient; he could wait for his best chance. He would take this person by surprise, and then he could escape.

He felt himself being eased against a tree-trunk. His back welcomed the support, being unwilling to bear the effort of sitting upright. One of the hands on his shoulders moved to touch his forehead, his cheek, and then the pulse under his jaw. "Your pulse is steadying—that is good," noted the voice. "Rest, youngling. I will prepare a potion to ease your discomfort, that I have found that works for humans."

He really was exhausted; he noted distantly, as the fresh reminder of his human state failed to re-spark the fading panic. With some effort, Inuyasha opened his eyes again. The green lighting was dim, but Inuyasha could see well enough, even with his human eyes. He made out branches extending some lengths beyond his feet, arching over a clearing that held no higher than his knees. Knobby roots came through the ground in places, and the clearing seemed oddly both wild and tended.

And it was utterly unfamiliar.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? Why did he have the feeling that it wasn't the right time of month?

He stared blankly at his unclawed feet, finding no answer there. His mind felt fuzzy, unwilling to focus. He knew that he should be tense, defensive, ready to fight of flee, all that he seemed able to sustain was an exhausted lassitude. And he couldn't even seem to recall any of his recent memories.

Thoughts continued to drift. Slowly, Inuyasha realized that he was hearing a tiny, high voice: an irritating voice, if he could just remember who's it was. Who? Frowning, he tried to concentrate. It was an irritating, yammering voice, even when tiny. It seemed to be getting answered by rustling leaves, which was a weird thought. But he should know, damnit—why couldn't he think who it was? Small, irritating, small, itchy—

"My-oga?"

The rustling stopped, and the yatter. Then, "He knows me—did you hear that? Let me out, let me out!"

"As you wish." That voice was unfamiliar, and accompanied by even more unfamiliar sounds. Inuyasha felt his ears trying to flick, reminding him rudely of his diminished state.

"Inuyasha-sama! Inuyasha-sama!" the small voice cried. Inuyasha tried to turn his very heavy head. Three things happened quickly. A sting in his neck, a yelp of dismay, and then a tiny object bouncing down from his neck, to his chest, to his stomach, and then, against the odds, into one limply open hand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" groaned the tiny creature, as it lay on its back, all six limbs jerking erratically. "Why didn't I remember, why didn't I remember what Cheiriyo did to my poor master? Oh, oh, oh, it's awful! Absolutely awful!"

Inuyasha stared at the flea in his hand, feeling a spark of interest and curiosity. "Cheiriyo?" he said slowly, aware that slack muscles didn't feel right. "Who is ... Cheiriyo? And what ... did he do to me?"

The flea groaned, attempted to lift his head, and fell back, limbs still twitching. "Moonfall. Oh, it's horrible. Horrible. Urrkk... The tiny body convulsed, and a speck of blood appeared at the tip of the pointed snout. "I'm dying ... oh, I'm dying...

"I very much doubt that, Myoga-san," said someone just to Inuyasha's side. Inuyasha blinked, knowing that he should have jumped at the sudden voice at his side: and he hadn't even twitched. "I told you earlier that I couldn't predict how long the potion would stay in a human's system." A sniff. "How did you ever survive this long, if you go around poking your snout into every bare hide you see?"

"But he usually tastes sooo good," whined the flea who then convulsed again, increasing the size of the droplet clinging to his snout. "So rich ... so tasty ..."

"But not now." A hand bearing a shallow bowl filled with a green liquid floated into Inuyasha's view. "Drink this, Inuyasha-sama. It should ease the nausea." When Inuyasha could only stare blankly at the dish, a second hand appeared, and helped him raise his head. The first sip, he could barely find the strength to swallow. Then, flavors and smell began to register. The liquid was tart yet sweet, and had a bracing mint flavor that teased his human nose. The second sip seemed to melt into his tongue and disappear down his throat. The rest of the cup went more quickly, and he was vaguely disappointed there wasn't more.

"Mint," he murmured, as the cup withdrew. "I like ... mint."

The chuckle was soft. "I had hoped that—I remember that both your father and your mother enjoyed the herb."

Inuyasha's eyes widened. He managed to lift his head enough to see the figure next to him. Soft blue eyes watched him from a human-shaped face that was framed with pointed ears and pale hair, currently tinted green-gold from the lighting. The face was smiling. "You knew—my parents?" Inuyasha whispered. "You knew—mama?"

"I met her once," the youkai said, "and cherish the memory of her smile. She was a strong, lovely creature, and the old Inu no Taisho found much joy in her presence."

Inuyasha blinked, feeling his eyes unaccountably burning. "Mama..." he whispered, yearning and hurting, wanting for no reason to feel her arms around him, and vaguely aware that option had disappeared so long, long ago.

"And, you, youngster, need sleep." Inuyasha felt his blinking eyes growing heavy, and barely noticed being lifted in two strong arms. "Bokuseno, I think he'll be safe enough now, if you can create another cocoon? Well away from the foxes ..." The voice fuzzed away, as his thoughts fell into cotton, drifting away on the pained yearning. Mama ... mama ... mama ...

… … …

Dawn was streaking the sky with gold and pink. Sesshomaru looked around at his 'army,' hiding his true feelings beneath his mask-like exterior.

He was trapped: well and truly trapped, by his father's example and the myths around him, and by this motley collection of youkai. He was trapped as well by his father's unfathomable intentions. He would have had absolutely no concerns about facing the panther army, had he the use of Tessaiga. He did not fear the feline youkai in any case: he knew he would more than outmatch the panther's leading family. If he had allowed Jaken to go search for Inuyasha, it was only with the recognition that the half-breed would inevitably be a target, and that even such as he deserved the opportunity to display he had inherited at least a trace of his sire's power and courage.

But Tessaiga was missing, and the hints he had indicated that there would be enough youkai to swarm him under if he were foolish enough to fight when they were massed against him. Inuyasha's presence would make no difference in that calculation.

But, meet army with army?

He had no experience leading others.

He did not care about leading others. Personal power was the only thing worth pursuing.

But, his father had been different. Not only had he called the dog clans to him and led them during the first panther invasion, and the earlier invasion led by the Hyoga clan. He had led many other youkai—both clans and individuals, and defended those who were least capable of fighting. His memory was still revered by many in the youkai world, at least who hadn't taken umbrage at the Inu no Taisho's eventual display of weakness in falling for a short-lived human woman, and giving his life in her defense.

He was the son of that Inu no Taisho. The only pure-blood scion of the most powerful Taiyoukai of his time. And so, he was trapped. Trapped by expectations.

And trapped by his own inability to admit he might ever be lesser than his father, in any capability.

Even if it meant leading this crowd of youkai who looked to him only because of his heritage, and not for anything that he had done.

The first glint of sun speared through the eastern trees, causing a stir among the night-loving contingent of his 'army.' Ordering his bitter reflections to the background of his thoughts, Sesshomaru concentrated on the dismal task of organizing the gathered folk.

… … …

Kaede woke up determined to change a certain sister's plans, intending to finding a way to trap her into a situation where she was forced to agree.

She found her opportunity when Kikyo tripped on a loose board on the porch. She jumped forward in front of her sister, her shoulder conveniently intercepting the free hand, providing an extra point of stability. She braced herself as Kikyo swayed, and openly smirked at the icy glower her sister shot her, after recovering. She held her tongue; however, until they were seated around the fire pit with Satsuki and the old herbalist, Amaya, eating breakfast. She continued to remain silent while eating, keeping one eye of her sister as she did so. Her own appetite was quite good, and she ate quickly and neatly. Kikyo was clearly forcing herself to eat, her face still pale and drawn.

Satsuki passed her a cup of fragrant brew, which smelled distinctly different from the one sitting before Kikyo. Kaede sniffed, then sipped. "Lemon grass, verbena, and ... um ... something cistrusy I think..."

"A bit of dried orange peel," said Satsuki with a warm smile. "You like it?"

"Yum." Kaede took three swallows to prove her point, and then stole another glance at her sister. The miko was sniffing her tea with a distinct look of distaste, and the girl watched with hidden amusement as Kikyo downed the drink as quickly as possible.

"Your concoctions get no better with repetition, Amaya-san," she grumbled.

The old herb woman chuckled. "Be glad your fever's gone, Kikyo-chan," she replied. "And don't think it'll get better, for complaining."

Satsuki was also smiling, as she pushed a fresh cup before the injured miko. "Here's a bit of sweet to chase it with, dear."

Kaede waited for Kikyo's expression to relax from the taste of the sweetened tea, and then launched into her plan. "I just hope that Kikyo-ane-sama remembers to take her medicine while she's off looking for that nasty priestess's hut with Miyatsu-sama," she declared.

Kikyo gave her an ill-tempered look. "And why wouldn't I, little sister?"

"Well, you could be concentrating on taking down her spell-traps, and forget what time it is. Or, you'll find something that absolutely has to be read through to the end before anything else. Or, Miyatsu and you will going to wear each other out, proving you're better than each other, and you'll be too tired and think, it'll be okay to skip things just once, forgetting you've already skipped it."

"Miyatsu-sama is quite aware of my situation: he'll doubtless remind me if I forgot."

"Yeah, right—the man who can't tell the difference between lemon balm and horehound? Who's probably going to be more interested in touching your butt, than in making sure you drink nasty teas?"

"Kaede!" spluttered Kikyo, turning red.

"Kaede," growled Amaya. "Didn't we talk about this yesterday?"

Satsuki sighed loudly enough to draw attention to herself. "I fear she does—however indirectly—have a point, Kikyo-sama. I think there are reasons why you should not go alone with Miyatsu-sama."

Kikyo tensed. "There's nothing between us!" she snapped.

"I know," said the head woman. "But, you know what Hajime's been implying about your last trip, and Yasuo isn't getting very far in trying to persuade him to be quiet. Another trip, unchaperoned, and people may start paying more attention to him." Kikyo started to open her mouth, but the older woman beat her to the next point. "And don't mention the tanuki. No one's going to believe the word of a youkai, especially one with a tanuki's reputation."

Kikyo's hands curled in to fists. "I'm not taking someone who won't know what they're getting into. I can't be expected to keep watch and make sure someone doesn't go stumbling into a magical trap, simply because of ignorance, and because they can't feel auras."

"I'll go," said Kaede at that point, having found her opening.

"No."

"Why not?" she challenged her sister. "I know what to touch and not touch: I can tell when not to interrupt you—or him, for that matter. I know enough about the herbs to brew them, and I can watch the rice and make sure neither of you let it burn. I can run errands and keep the camp up. And I know enough to recognize when to get out of the way, if something does attack."

"Oh?" asked Kikyo, her eyes sparking anger. "Like you did when the youkai swarm attacked, and you tried to fight, and lost your eye for it?"

It was Kaede's turn to flush. "That was different!" she denied. "We were late getting back, there wasn't time for me to come here, and were so many youkai coming at you, I had to try!"

"It's not different!" snapped Kikyo. "I'm not letting you expose yourself to danger like that again! I don't want to lose you!"

"And I don't want to keep hearing Hajime's filthy lies, and I don't want you alone with him!"

"Kaede, Kikyo, enough," chided Satsuki gently. They both looked at the headwoman. "You both have valid concerns. Let's discuss this without sisterly bickering, shall we?"

Kaede nodded warily; Kikyo, she noticed, look stubborn, but then gave in with a sigh, looking away. Satsuki reached for their cups and poured fresh tea into both, before looking up across the fire pit.

"I do think that a third person should go, given the mischief Hajime is trying to cause. What do you think, Amaya?"

"That vain snip of a boy should never have been sent to samurai training, but that's water long past the bridge," said the elderly woman, with considerable edge. "A chaperone—as long as it's not obviously a chaperone—is a good idea. And since Kikyo-sama is not going to be free of that staff inside the next moon, someone to take care of cooking and cleaning while she concentrates on finding and getting rid of any of that evil woman's magic, will make sense. The question is whom to send."

"Me."

Amaya ignored Kaede. "I would go myself—Miyatsu-sama won't get anything past me, and he knows it. But I'm too old, and the village needs me more than Kikyo does."

Satsuki sighed. "I'm not really sure whom we should send. In some ways, I'd like to send Haruna-she could use a break from her sister-in-law, she wants Miyatsu-sama, but under the circumstances, wouldn't try anything where Kikyo could see it. But, -"

"Haruna's scared of youkai, even tanuki," interrupted Kaede. "And she doesn't know herbs."

Satsuki gave the girl a look intended to quiet her, then returned her gaze to Amaya. "We need someone who can cook, knows herbs well enough to brew your concoctions, isn't afraid of youkai, and, ideally, has some touch of spiritual gifts, so they don't stumble into things. And who'll be believed, when she says Miyatsu-sama and Kikyo-sama weren't being… intimate."

Kaede saw her wedge. "And after yesterday, do you really think that anyone believes I'll let my sister go off with that monk?" she demanded. "He's a pervert, and I don't like him!"

"Kaede!"

She ignored Kikyo.

The two older women exchanged long glances. Amaya was the first to reach a conclusion, shaking her head. "I hate to say it, but mistress rude sitting here has a point. Everyone's probably heard about her sniping from yesterday, and everyone knows that Kaede's blunt-spoken and doesn't hide what she thinks. She may not be the most believable witness, but given who is able to go, and who would be willing…"

"And she's traveled with her sister before," added Satsuki. "It will be the most obvious solution, especially one that does not make it appear that we're trying to protect Kikyo's reputation." She added, with a slight moue of distaste, "Though I do wish Kaede were a bit older."

"Then, we'd have to worry about rumors that Miyatsu-sama has his hands on both of them," Amaya pointed out.

"Oh, yuck!"

The two women laughed, and Kaede wondered, suddenly, if the trap had been hers, or theirs.

… … …

Inuyasha exploded upright—or attempted to. His forehead smacked into limber branches. He went backwards, hands lashing out to clear the air above him. Nothing happened, and he involuntarily returned to his prone position as he stared, disbelieving, at his hands. His human hands.

Fighting down the sharp spike of panic, he wriggled into a crouched position, careful to keep clear of the arching green around him. Striving not to pant, he surveyed his situation. He was in what looked like a green cocoon—a large, green cocoon. It was like nothing that an insect would have spun: the 'base' of the cocoon looked to be some kind of very thick, cushiony moss. The arching 'walls,' which tapered to a quarter of their maximum height at either end, appeared to be made of interwoven, pale-gold branches growing numerous, spring-green leaves. Shifting position so that he was located under the highest point of the cocoon, Inuyasha carefully probed the 'wall' with one hand. The branches yielded a bit stiffly, but they did yield. Guessing that he could probably force his way through, Inuyasha fought down the scared impetus to break free of this possible trap.

Where was he? Turning around in the constricted space, Inuyasha refused to wince as his body complained. Damn, he was sore! He looked himself over, but saw no sign of injury—a fairly easy thing to do, since he was wearing nothing more than a fundoshi and Kikyo's rosary. His clothes were neatly folded, apparently having served as a pillow. He reached for them, and realized that the air was almost uncomfortably warm—and so was the 'moss.'

Wherever he was, it was no place human. Moving awkwardly in the confined space, Inuyasha pulled on his clothes. The fire-rat material wouldn't protect him, without his youki to feed on, but it was still better than being almost naked. Finishing, he raked his fingers through his hair, discovering it was barely chin-length. Long enough to check its color; however—black.

Returning to a crouch, he tried to guess what was going on. Why was he human, when, from the light filtering through the leaves, it must be daytime? What had he been doing before this? He'd been—oh, yeah. Taking Sesshomaru's advice, of all the crazy things to do. But with that red, feral, chuckling, clawing voice in the back of his head, threatening to take him over from moment to moment: the hideous memory of slashing a human woman to pieces, and reveling in it: he'd been desperate enough to try anything. Anything to lock that voice away, to not have to fear turning into a monster, of turning on the woman he loved and the people she protected.

The voice, he suddenly realized that was entirely missing.

Inuyasha thumped onto his butt, and lifted his human hands to stare at them, his world dropping away from him. Was this why he was human? Had someone turned him into human, destroyed his youkai side, so that he could never transform? Had he asked for it?

It hadn't been that long, since he had agreed to wish to become human, for Kikyo's sake, to purify the Shikon no Tama. He had been prepared to sacrifice his strength and his senses, to free Kikyo, and, just; incidentally, gain the opportunity to love and be loved—and accepted.

It had all gone wrong, with that shape-shifter pretending to be them, to trick them into thinking each had betrayed the other. If he hadn't realized that the arrows aimed at him hadn't been empowered with a miko's magic… But he had. They had confronted the shape-shifter together, and somehow managed to destroy him and the jewel. But leaving them with the quandary, of being miko and hanyo.

And then, Tsubaki had happened. Had taken him prisoner, tortured him, and then tried to rip his youki from him and kill him. And something had shattered, and he had turned into a monster. If Kikyo hadn't stopped him…

He'd panicked when he'd woken up and learned the truth: panicked and fled. Until Sesshomaru had found him, started in with his usual torments and then, when Inuyasha had begged him to stop, for fear of transforming, had not only done so, but had actually ended up giving him advice.

Go to Bokuseno.

A 2,000 year-old magnolia.

Inuyasha looked at the cocooning branches. Reaching out, he carefully touched the 'wall.' He felt nothing. Of course: he was only human, unable to sense youki. "Are you Bokuseno?" he whispered. "Did you turn me human?"

The branches under his hand shivered. The entire cocoon quivered, and then a face formed as at one spot, level with his head, the leaves rushing together. Dark sockets of eyes looked at him, above the seeming of a long nose and a wide, lipless mouth.

"So, you are awake, son of my old friend. And you have questions to be answered."

Inuyasha snatched his hand away. "Well, yeah," he retorted, bristling despite the huge bubble of uncertainty and apprehension within. "Like, where am I, how did you make me human, is this going to last, and what are you going to do next?"

"There are those who would visit you. Follow the leaves and clean yourself, then they will take you to a place for eating. They will join you there." The face started to disappear, and then returned. "Do not fear: you are under my protection, while within my reach."

The face disappeared. With a rustle, the cocoon split down the top, branches unweaving and shrinking, until they formed an oval wall no more than knee-high. Carefully getting to his feet, and feeling a bit light-headed, Inuyasha followed the spinning triplet of leaves. He felt less than reassured by the face's words, but he was feeling too shaken to risk defiance. It was day, and he was human, and he didn't know whether it was a reprieve, or an answer…

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally, an update! I've used a LiveJournal community called "Inuyasha / B'sides", which helps encourage people to work on their incomplete stuff by providing prompts every month. This was written for the prompt "Trapped", and made it in one day before deadline!

Next goal is to get a new chapter for this and for "White To Black" in September.


	21. Realizations

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter XX: Explanations**

Inuyasha edged warily into the clearing, eyes darting back and forth. Visibly no one was present, but it was clearly meant as an eating place, with several baskets of food in the center, surrounded by regular patches of moss similar to what he had found himself laying on when he woke up. Taking careful note of the no fewer than three entrances through the growth surrounding the circular area, he went to a mossy pad that was equidistant between two exits, and backed by some of the thickest brush. Along the way, he paused long enough to scrutinize the largest basket and snag what looked to be two pears and an apple.

A wary nibble on the first yellow sphere proved that the fruit tasted the same as it looked—pear. Inuyasha took another byte, refusing to relax. He didn't trust this strange place, he didn't trust this 'Bokuseno.' He was human in the daytime, apparently in the middle of a youkai forest, and he felt weak even for a human. It didn't help that all his muscles were aching, especially along his ribs.

The three pieces of fruit disappeared with gathering speed as, despite his tension, the taste triggered his body's craving for food. Setting the last core down, the human eyed the baskets of food, hesitated for a long moment, and then got to his feet. He circled the baskets, his attention straying to the entrances, instinctively sniffing for any sign of danger. Snatching up a handful of fruit, he started to retreat back to his pad, only to jump when the tree spoke.

"You may take one of the baskets with you," said the deep voice. "There is plenty. And Cheiriyo has informed me that you have clearly been lacking sufficient food for some time."

Inuyasha backed away from the food, looking about before finally settling his glare on the somewhat distant trunk of the magnolia. "I'm not hungry! And who is Cheiriyo?"

"I believe I am."

Inuyasha jumped at the new voice behind him. He whirled, and started backing up towards the nearest untenanted exit. He stared at the slender, male youkai entering the circle, his stance dropping into a crouch, his hands curling into fists. "Who are you and what do you want?" He spat.

The gilt-haired youkai raised a pacifying hand. "I am a healer, Inuyasha-sama. I am here to graze on our host's repast, even as you." He paused a moment. "I knew your father; Inuyasha-sama. I owed him life-debt. You need not fear me."

"Hah! As if anyone knowing who my father were, made them any more apt to not hate me!" Inuyasha snarled, continuing to edge backwards. "And I'm not afraid!"

"Then, why are you backing away?" A very pretty woman wondered as she edged into view from behind Cheiriyo. "No one's going to harm you, Inuyasha-sama: Bokuseno gave his word."

"And why should I believe the word of a youkai?" His legs made contact with bush, and Inuyasha started sidling sideways. The exit had to be close! "Most youkai take one look and yell "kill the hanyo"!"

"That's ridiculous!" The purple-eyed woman exclaimed, a white-tipped tail twitching into view. "I never said that—I tried to help you! And Bokuseno stopped Masaki, and sent him and his brother away!"

"Help me? What are you talking about, vixen? I've never met you before!"

"What do you mean, you don't know me?" she spluttered. "We met fewer than two days ago! I—"

"Enough, Akeneka-chan," interrupted Cheiriyo. "Inuyasha-sama has been very ill, and may not remember the last several days." He turned his soft, blue gaze on the hanyo-turned-human. "Inuyasha-sama, I know it must be—unnerving, to be in your human form, and surrounded by youkai. But, you are safe within the area that Bokuseno controls. Will you not sit and eat, and give us the opportunity to talk with you?"

Branches scraped lightly against his arms. "Be seated, youngling," rumbled the tree's voice, directly behind him. Inuyasha dared a quick look, and discovered the exit he knew had been there had quite vanished. The long nosed face formed in the brush that was now at head height, instead of waist height, cocked one twiggy eyebrow. "As a courtesy."

Inuyasha could figure out when he was trapped. Keeping a wary eye on the two youkai, he walked forward and grabbed one of the baskets, then backed up to the furthest edge of the mossy pad farthest away from the pair. Cheiriyo waited until he had seated himself, and only then moved towards the food. He picked up two baskets, shaking his head when the vixen made a move as if to move towards a seat closer to Inuyasha. The pair stayed on the opposite side of the small clearing, Cheiriyo setting a basket next to the woman, before seating himself.

They ate in silence. Inuyasha kept his head down, watching them through his bangs, every aching muscle tensed. He ate fast, old habits and his body demanding food, though it might as well have been tasteless. He did not fail to observe that the girl was eating left-handed, her right arm hid under her robes, and that she was tense as well, numerous emotions flickering across her face as she kept taking quick glances at him. Cheiriyo nibbled slowly, more subtle in his appraisals, but Inuyasha knew the youkai was watching him, and probably not just with his eyes.

Inuyasha had reached the bottom of the basket. He was contemplating the last root, wondering if he weren't too full, when a screechy voice began calling for Bokuseno.

"Why didn't you wake me up, Bokuseno?" the voice yelled. "You know I need to talk to him! It's important! Very important! I should not have been left sleeping!"

A small figure hurtled into the clearing. "There you are!" Jaken screeched. "You ungrateful, murdering han—"

The voice and running feet staggered to a stop at the same moment, as yellow eyes bugged out even further than normal, a green-skinned bill dropped open, and a staff dropped to the ground.

"Inu-y-yasha?" Jaken stuttered. "You—you—you're still human!"

Inuyasha gave him a sour look. "What an accurate observation, toad," he snapped. "What are you doing away from Sesshomaru, anyway? Did he finally get tired of your screeching?"

Jaken puffed himself up. "I'm on a very important mission!" he proclaimed, and then realized that he'd dropped the staff. "The great and undefeatable Sesshomaru-sama has allowed this one to convey a message to the unworthy half-blooded son of the glorious, former Inu no Taisho that if he takes any pride in his youkai blood that he—" Jaken hesitated, staring at the black-haired human, and began to wilt. "That he, he — oh, what can you do? I didn't believe what I heard last night, but ... it's... true...you're ... human..."

He plopped to a seated position, staring at Inuyasha, open-mouthed and crestfallen. Inuyasha snorted, and threw the last root at him. Even though Inuyasha's strength was reduced, his aim was true, and Jaken yelped as the root smacked him in the face.

"Yeah, I'm human," he said bitterly. "So what? Going to go back to Sesshomaru and tell him that his unworthy brother, became even more unworthy? That should make his day."

"B-b-but, he-he needs you! As hanyo!"

"Why? Can't he find anyone else to be his bone to gnaw on?"

"No! The panthers are attacking—the ones your great sire defeated! He needs you beside him! They want revenge on the Inu no Taisho's sons!"

Inuyasha stared at the green-skinned imp, taken aback at the mention of his father. "Panthers? I don't know any panthers ... and why would they want revenge on Sesshomaru and me?"

"Perhaps, I can explain more easily," came an unexpected voice. Inuyasha looked up, to see Cheiriyo's haunted expression. The healing youkai attempted to smile, but it held no amusement.

"After all, the panthers are the reason I owed—and still owe—your great father a life-debt, Inuyasha-sama."

... ... ...

Yukuuku spread out her small treasure of enchanted leaves and once again, touched each one to make sure the spells were intact. It had become a nervous habit the last six days, but there was so little for her to do! She had no one to cook for, to plan clever, surprising meals. She had nothing to clean up. She had no one to listen to, and no one to talk with.

A great ball of grief rose in her throat again. Oh, her poor, beautiful, powerful mistress! How could that miserable hanyo, which her mistress had imprisoned, have possibly slain her? Oh, true, the mistress had treated the hanyo very, very badly, hurting him like that. But, who could say that the hanyo didn't deserve all that punishment? Her mistress had been strong, and very clever. No, she didn't suppose that everything her mistress had done, would be accounted as 'good' by other humans, but so? Her mistress did know mercy—hadn't she saved Yukuuku from that horrible trap? And not demanded any payment? Chance had given Yukuuku the opportunity to pay her mistress back in kind.

The ring of metal on metal warned her. Gathering her leaves back together, she hurriedly stuffed them into a hidden pocket, along with her other small treasures, before leaving the tiny, rude shelter of woven branches and leaves she had constructed some days ago.

Miyatsu gave her a solemn nod, and then took a seat on a tree log. "Tomorrow is the seventh day," he stated.

The tanuki nodded in silent agreement. Her clan followed bits and pieces of ritual they had picked up from the Buddhist temple next door: she had been reciting the prayers for the dead for her dear, departed mistress for six days.

"I have been quite pleased that you are willing to help me find your mistress' house, so that we can make sure that her things are disposed of respectfully, and that any dangerous spells are not allowed to fall into evil hands." She nodded. "However, as it happens, Kikyo-sama insists on that she must accompany us."

Yukuuku stiffened. "No!" she blurted out. Let her mistress' worst enemy—the one that had nearly destroyed her months before—get her hands on anything that her own mistress had touched? Never!

The monk gave her a sympathetic smile. "I appreciate your concern, Yukuuku-chan. However, Kikyo-sama does make the reasonable argument that your mistress may well have set magical protections, and that she, having had training similar to Tsubaki-sama, is likelier to be able to recognize them and know how to render them harmless." He shrugged and smiled. "I did try to argue against needing her assistance, but I fear that I quite lost that argument."

Yukuuku gave him a skeptical look. Why did he need to 'win' an argument? No one was going to try and stop them from leaving, were they?

"I need supplies, which the villagers may not give me, if Kikyo opposes my departure alone," he said, as if in answer to her question. "And, I fear, she is likelier to recognize a dangerous situation than I am. For myself, I would be willing to take the risk, but I do not care to risk the well-being of an innocent such as yourself. Your safety is most important."

She blinked at that. He smiled at her, and continued. "Unfortunately, this means it will take us longer to get to your mistress' house. While I am deeply flattered, that you are willing to carry me, in your other form, I cannot possibly ask for you to also carry the weight of Kikyo as well. It is unfortunate that it means that you will have to put up with her presence for at least the four days it will take to reach Tsubaki's place on horseback. Kikyo-sama is quite stubborn, but even she will have to admit the need to not push herself, while on horseback." He sighed. "She has a temper, the lady miko does. I hope that she does not prove too much strain on your gentle temper."

Yukuuku looked away, dismayed by the prospect. "I can move much faster than a horse," she said. "You and I will go ahead, and she can follow us."

"I fear that is not an option, dear child," he said. "She will insist on staying together, if only for protection."

The tanuki felt almost ill. Four days, just traveling, with that miko? "We can get there in half a day, if I fly," she pointed out.

"And that's a wonderful ability you have, Yukuuku-chan," he said, admiringly. "But the only way to get there in such a short time in her company, would be for you to carry both of us. And I could not possibly ask for such an effort from you."

The tanuki bristled. "I'm strong! I can carry you and her easily! And I will! I won't be slowed down, because of her!"

Miyatsu broke into a wide smile. "You are generous beyond compare, my sweet Yukuuku! Kikyo-sama cannot possibly refuse your offer, and she and I will both be in your debt."

She gave him a dubious look. "I just don't want to be around her, any longer than needed."

"Of course, dear one, but that does not lessen your offer! Your desire to protect your mistress' interests is most admirable, especially when it means dealing with a person distasteful to you." The monk continued in that vein for some time more, until Yukuuku found herself staring at the ground and wondering when he was going to stop. Was there such a thing as too much praise? Fortunately, he finished, and took his leave, after asking whether there was anything from the village she would care to have. She shook her head, not imagining anything that humans had that she would want.

He left, and she felt oddly relieved. Which perplexed her—he was so nice, for a human!

... ... ...

Inuyasha listened silently to a tale of invasion and cruelty and fear, and of the power and skill of his father, defending those unable to stand up to the panthers, and organizing beings for whom the concept of organized fighting were very nearly foreign. "There were many of us tormented by the panthers who caught us," Cheiriyo said. "I, myself, was caught in my true form, chased to exhaustion, and was slowly being clawed to death when your father dropped down from the sky and killed my tormentors. He used his 'army' to prevent the panthers from attacking, and then to keep the panther clans off his back when he challenged the panther's Master to direct combat." The healer smiled slightly. "Others who were there have called it a glorious battle and victory. I was simply relieved when it was over. The Inu no Taisho ordered the surviving panthers to leave his territory and never return."

"He should have just killed them," muttered Inuyasha to himself.

"He chose to show mercy," Chireiyo responded. "He said those left behind—the cubs and the elders—would need the survivors, and he never cared for utter destruction." He sighed. "Alas, the winds say that Touron claimed the clan's spear, and chose to cultivate rage, and hate, rather than question if there were not a more peaceful way to ensure the clan's survival and increase its power. From what Jaken says, it would seem that she wishes to destroy any who carry the Inu no Taisho's blood."

"And, so, Sesshomaru actually wants me to come and fight by his side, against these panthers?" Inuyasha asked, disbelieving, glaring at Jaken.

The imp bristled, jumping to his feet. "Of course not!" he snapped. "How dare you suggest that he would ever want to have you by his side? A dirty-blooded hanyo like you? But, his honor is too great to allow any portion of his father's blood to be shamed or called coward by others, and so I came to find you, to make sure that you would have the opportunity to meet the great Inu no Taisho's foes head on, and prove that the taiyoukai's courage runs true, even in a worthless hanyo like you."

"Yeah, sure," sneered Inuyasha, bitterly. He held up his hand and clenched it. "Just how much taiyoukai blood is anyone going to see in this? A human has no chance before an entire clan of panthers, so why in hell should I listen to you?"

"The question of Inuyasha joining his brother can wait, little youkai," said Bokuseno, with a rustling of the leaves behind the human. "There is a more immediate problem."

"Yeah," said Inuyasha, with belligerence he didn't feel. He fastened his gaze on the healer. "Why am I human?"

Cheiriyo met his gaze. "Are you aware of what can happen, if your youkai blood overcomes your human blood?"

Inuyasha felt his face blanch, and his overfull stomach twitch. The healer apparently saw his reaction, and nodded. "You were transformed. Bokuseno tried to drain you enough to allow your sides to balance, but he failed. Your human soul was dying, and we could find but one option. I gave you a potion, that is deadly poison to most youkai, as it destroys their youki. Our guess, that your human blood would allow you to survive, was correct, but you were very ill last night. You are better this morning but we do not know if you will ever return to your hanyo form."

Inuyasha stared at the ground, swallowing hard. Poisoned? His youkai side, possibly dead? Forever human?

He would be able to go back to Kikyo, one thought that wasn't frozen in dread suggested.

I gave you a potion that is deadly poison to most youkai, as it destroys their youki. Our guess, that your human blood would allow you to survive, was correct, but you were very ill last night. You are better this morning, but we do not know whether you will ever return to your hanyo form."

Inuyasha stared at the ground, swallowing hard. Poisoned? His youkai side, possibly dead? Forever human?

He would be able to go back to Kikyo, one thought that wasn't frozen in dread suggested.

But ... why? "Why ... why did I ... why did I lose control?" he whispered. He remembered how hard he had tried to keep that dreadful, laughing, whispering voice in his head locked down; how he had turned coward before his brother, begging Sesshomaru not to torment him. He remembered how desperate he had felt, to take Sesshomaru's advice. "I was ... I was trying ... to find Bokuseno—Se—someone told me ... to find him. But, I don't ... what happened?"

"My teacher, Rikaru Two-tails, attacked you," said a young, feminine voice. Inuyasha didn't look up to see whether her expression matched the bitter edge in her voice. "You got free and ran away when the other kitsune showed up. You were hurt; I was worried and tried to find you. I was only wanting to help you—Myoga had been telling me stories about you all winter, I wanted to meet you, get to know you.

"But when I found you, in the morning, you attacked me. I called down to you, and you looked up, and laughed, and tried to kill me. You did kill one of my friends. And if the trees hadn't intervened, you probably would have killed all of us."

The brutal imagery of Tsubaki's shattered body flashed across his mind, and Inuyasha clapped a hand across his mouth, to keep from retching. Not again! Not again! He hadn't wanted it, he'd risked coming into hostile territory, risked taking his brother's advice, on the chance that the magnolia would have a solution to his out of control blood. And maybe he'd found a solution, but not like this, maybe being human was all he deserved, for becoming something that couldn't control itself, but he hadn't been given a choice, and oh, gods, he remembered, the blood as he tore Tsubaki apart, and the stench, and the vile, all-consuming glee he had felt—

His stomach rebelled. He vomited, losing everything he'd eaten, while tears were forced from his eyes, and despair battled with shame. He didn't want to be human, not like this, not without a choice.

But, it might be all he deserved.

He didn't want to be a maddened killer.

He didn't want to be a mindless, murdering youkai!

Why did he have to be like this?

Why?

* * *

**Author's Note: **This was originally posted in October. It has been updated after editing for grammar and one small 'factual' change. (12/02/11)


	22. Broken

**Disclaimer:**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter XXI: Broken**

Cheiriyo walked over to the crouching, shaking human. "Inuyasha-sama," he said, extending a hand to touch the red-clad shoulder. "Let me—"

"Leave me alone!" shrilled the boy, lashing out with his arm. Cheiriyo didn't attempt to avoid it, knowing that a mortal's blow could not harm him. It did not, thought it had more strength than he expected.

"I have had a tea made to calm your stomach," said the healer quietly. "Will you not drink?"

Inuyasha pulled away, scrabbling backwards until he hit the wall of bush behind him. "Why should I?" he demanded, looking up, glaring with the bloodshot, dark-gray eyes. "I'm not sick! And you're youkai! What do you know about humans, anyway?"

"More than you might expect, young master," Cheiriyo replied. "This is the same tea I once prepared for your mother: she was pleased with both its taste and its effect."

Inuyasha started. "You knew my mother?"

Clearly, the boy did not remember his brief awakening from the night before. Smiling, Cheiriyo repeated his response, and then offered the cup. The black-haired lad gave him a long look, and then took the wooden cup. Inuyasha took a small sip, paused, and then swallowed.

"Mint," he murmured, starting to relax.

"Among other things," Cheiriyo agreed. "Both of your parents were partial to that herb."

"Huh." Inuyasha rocked back and eased to a seated position, legs crossed. Eyes closing, he sipped slowly. Beside him, moss and rootlets rose and fell, burying the smelly mess. Watching closely, noticing the slight lessening of tension, Cheiriyo knelt before the human boy.

"You said this 'potion' destroys youki," said Inuyasha presently, staring into his cup. "Does that mean, I'll always be human?"

Cheiriyo gave a silent sigh of relief—and regret. "I do not know, Inuyasha-sama. I know that hanyos have periodic intervals, when their youkai side goes dormant, and then revives. That gives me hope that once the potion has left your body, your youkai may be able to recover."

"How long before you know for sure?"

The blue-eyed youkai considered the human. "If you go past your normal cycle without returning to your hanyo state: or, at most, you go past that time twice, I would assume that your human state is permanent."

Clawless fingers tightened on the cup. "And if my youkai blood returns, will I be in control, or the youkai?"

"That possibility is what we must discuss." The low, rumbling voice of the tree entered the conversation. "Your sire knew that your youkai blood would be too strong to remain balanced with your human blood, and took steps to ensure your youkai blood would be controlled. Before we can search for solutions, we must have knowledge. The seal on your blood is broken, and we must know why."

Tension rose almost visibly in the boy's shoulders. "Why can't you just feed me more of your potion, if I turn back?" asked Inuyasha.

"You want to lose your youkai blood?"

Inuyasha's head snapped up, and he glared at the young kitsune who had crept close to listen. "Why the fuck to you want to know, vixen?" he snarled. "It's none of your concern!"

Akeneka bristled. "You killed my friend! You almost killed my sensei! You almost killed me! I probably ought to want you to stay human!"

"Enough," said Bokuseno, rustling his leaves. "Akeneka-san, Jaken-san, you will leave."

"What?" squawked Jaken who, like Akeneka, had crept close to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"I'm staying!" snapped Akeneka.

"No." The rustling of the leaves grew louder. "There are secrets that may be revealed: will be revealed. Some of these belonged to the Inu no Taisho himself, and they are not to be shared with youngsters seeking mere diversion. Now, go."

Cheiriyo stood up. "I will go as well," he said. "Akeneka, Jaken—"

"You will stay, healer."

The youkai stiffened. Stay? He was too involved already, for his peace of mind and the safety of his family. Stay and learn more about secrets which belonged to the Inu no Taisho? Life-debt or no life-debt, this he did not want!

"Bokuseno-sama," he started to protest. "I do not see—"

"You have necessary knowledge lacked by myself and Myoga." Small 'creaks' and 'cracks' joined the rustling, as green walls began to grow, pinning him inside a small space with the human, and pushing the other two away. "Please to be seated, healer."

Cheiriyo resumed kneeling, even as Akeneka and Jaken futilely argued and yelled. He told himself to be calm, and then noticed Inuyasha watching him with a slight smirk on his face. "You have a thought, Inuyasha-sama?" he asked curtly.

The smirk broadened. "I'm so enjoying watching someone else getting pushed around for once," said the human boy.

The healer decided not to answer.

… … …

Akeneka sulked as she wandered around the tree. What was wrong with her staying around to listen to Inuyasha's explanation for his situation? She was quite willing to forgive him for his attack on her, since it apparently hadn't been him, really. But didn't she have a right to know why he went crazy like that? He'd killed Shinkubi, had nearly killed her and Rikaru! She deserved to know!

But, no. The healer could stay, and of course, the tree would hear everything anyway. But not the fox.

Returning to the area where she and the two brothers had slept; she eyed the single remaining oval of thicker moss. It was tempting to just lay down and take a nap. It was a way to wait out the time until she could transform and try to put weight on her injured leg. And, as her mother had told her, there was no such thing as too many naps.

But, she'd either have to take a nap in her human form, or disobey the healer who had frowned when she had shifted to this shape when she woke up. Never mind that the limb hurt a lot less, when she didn't have to remember to keep from walking on it. And she wasn't really in the mood for a nap, either. So, she wandered on.

Hearing a sound that was like rushing water, and yet wasn't, she followed the sound, discovering an area where the tree had sent down dozens of limber branches which effectively created a wall. Carefully inserting her good hand, she pulled aside some of the branches to look through to the next area.

It looked as if a piece of a narrow stream had been surrounded by a wall of leaves. The stream was split around a narrow oval of mossy land. And on the oval, rippling with blue streamers, and looking not quite solid, was a large, two-tailed fox sprawled out on his belly, eyes closed and unmoving.

"Rikaru?" She whispered, not sure if that was he, amidst the foxfire. Among other things, Rikaru rarely took his full-fox form.

The water rippled, and a translucent head—horned, whiskered, and fanged, lifted up from the water. "Vixen," he rumbled, sounding like water being poured over stones, "Why do you disturb me?"

"Oh!" She blushed. "I was just—looking around. That is Rikaru Two-Tails, isn't it? I was wondering how he was doing."

More neck emerged from the water, and long nostrils quivered as he sniffed. "You are one of the foxes saved by the winds," he observed.

"Um, yes, I guess I am. And you saved Rikaru?"

He snorted. "The winds drove the fire-fox and hanyo into my river. I quenched the fire, and agreed to Bokuseno's request to carry the fox to him." He blew a cloud of mist from his nose. "The silly hanyo tried to prevent me, but his attacks were pitiful. Playing with him would have eventually become boring. But, Bokuseno ensnared him with a flower, and led him away."

Akeneka pulled at the branches, intending the widen the gap so that she could step through. They refused to budge, and the water youkai gave her an amused look. "You are still a freshlet, aren't you? Can't you feel the barrier? That tree knows better than to weaken his guard against an out of control fire-beast, even if I am here to counteract the flames." He shifted, and brought into view a pair of clawed forefeet, which were crossed on top of the water.

"Fire-beast?" she echoed. "You—Rikaru—you called him fire-fox—he actually took that form? I thought a fox had to have five tails or more, to even try that form."

The youkai chuckled, with a bit of a sneer in his tone. "Children are always being told they can't do things. I guess he forgot."

"Rikaru is not a child!" she exclaimed, indignant. "He's been teaching at the clan for over five years!"

The youkai tilted his head, one whisker curling and extending through the air until its tip just brushed against Akeneka's fingers. "Little freshlet," it mocked, as it pulled the whisker back and dropped the tip into the water. "Bright little ripple of water, anxious to dash itself against rocks, not realizing that it is more apt to vaporize and never be, than to make its own path to the greater sea."

She glared at him. "You're not making sense."

He laughed. "Little freshlet judges the stream? Best seek calmer waters, or drain away, little one. Now go away—your taste is dull."

The opening in the branches snapped shut. Akeneka yelped, snatching her stinging fingers back. She stared in outrage at the 'wall,' and after a moment, tried to open a new hole. This time, the branches refused to budge. She glowered at the wall, resisted the temptation to kick it, and turned away, her white-tipped tail lashing. Feeling even more cross than before, she stalked to the mossy oval that had been her bed before and kneeled down, scowling. Maybe she should have taken Bokuseno's suggestion and returned home. But, no! She wanted to know what was happening to Rikaru and to the hanyo, and she wasn't going to leave until she was ready to go!

… … …

Myoga bounded into his hand from wherever he had been hiding. "Inuyasha-sama! You are feeling better, I see!"

Inuyasha eyed the tiny youkai skeptically. "I'm obviously feeling so well that you aren't attempting to make a meal of my blood?" he sad skeptically. "Try that one again, Myoga-jiji!"

"Urrr…" Myoga shrank into himself. "I'm not … very hungry right now."

"Actually, he's not hungry right now, because he did try to suck your blood last night." Inuyasha glanced at the healer who had an expression close to a certain level of cruel amusement. "However, the Moonfall still in your blood was too much even for him."

"But, I had to check his health for myself!" protested the flea. "You know that most poisons don't bother me!"

"Don't lie, Myoga. You said you 'forgot': don't pretend you didn't."

Myoga muttered something to himself, and turned around in Inuyasha's hand, so that his back was to the healer. "Can we talk about important things? Like, why did Inuyasha's youkai blood take over, and how do we keep it from happening again?"

"Those are the relevant questions," agreed the tree. "Especially given what I could sense—and not sense—when I attempted to drain the sapling's jyaki. Inuyasha-sama, you must answer. Has your youkai blood taken control before?"

Inuyasha fisted his hands, not hearing Myoga's yelp as he hastily avoided getting squished staring at the ground. The memory of Tsubaki's brutal death flashed before his mental eyes again, and his stomach churned. Kami! He'd hated her, she deserved to die, but like that, at his claws, his! And what he had felt! "Yes," he whispered. "I… I … I killed her. Tsubaki. A dark priestess. I … I ripped her apart, with my claws. And, I … I laughed." He swallowed hard against the bile.

"What's wrong with that?" wondered Myoga. "You've killed lots of youkai, and laughed about it."

"Not like that," whispered Inuyasha, swallowing again. "I … laugh … because I'm still alive. Because I—won: proved them wrong. Tsubaki … she was human. Mama never wanted me to kill humans. It …I enjoyed killing her. Wanted to kill. Wanted blood. Wanted death—" He retched.

"Why did it happen?" asked someone, when Inuyasha was able to straighten from the heaves. "Who was this Tsubaki? You said, 'dark priestess'? What does that mean? Was she trying to kill you?"

Inuyasha kept his eyes closed, hugging himself. He wanted nothing more than to run away; run from the insistent voices, and from his memories. The three youkai would never understand, never! How could they? They'd never been captured, never been tortured, never been humiliated! He didn't want to tell them! They'd never understand why he'd been so weak. They would scorn him, despise him, use him for an example of what everyone knew: that hanyo were weak, stupid, cowardly, not worthy of either of their bloods!

A hand went to his shoulder, and refused to be shaken off. "I can see this is difficult for you, Inuyasha-sama," said a soft, gentle voice. "I do not understand why, but I am listening. I will not call you the names I know hanyo are called, any more than your father would, or your mother. Will you not try to tell us? Tell me? I am a healer: my power comes not from taking, but giving. I would give you healing, but I knew how. I want to know what has happened to you that causes you such pain and revulsion. I want to know, so that, perhaps, I can help those feelings go away."

"Should your youkai blood return," rustled Bokuseno, "you will continue to be at risk of this blood rage, unless we can learn why the seal failed, and how to repair it. You must speak, little sapling."

He could barely breathe, for the tension. He couldn't tell them, he couldn't! But, to risk his nightmare, to risk killing Kikyo as he had killed Tsubaki!

"Sh-she c-captured me," he somehow forced through the steel bands on his throat. "Tortured me." He gasped for breath. "Tried. Tried t-to es-escape. Failed. She hurt me…"

"Why did she capture you?" came the voice, quiet, but relentless. "She must have had a reason. Why did she kidnap you, torture you?"

"Shikon." He whimpered. "Shikon no Tama. She wanted it..."

… … …

Myoga sat on his master's head; his snout and his whiskers quivering, totally unnerved and totally unsure what do. He had never imagined that his master could be brought so low, to such a state of fear and shame and self-loathing that Inuyasha was now in. How could it be? How could a mere human have done this? He knew he was a coward, but that was simply the way he was. Inuyasha, like his great sire, had a reckless courage. His sire had never been daunted. Did being half-human weaken his courage so much? Yet, Izayoi herself had also had a matchless courage, though exercised in different areas. It was not that the boy had not been fearless: Myoga knew that, despite his own tendency to disappear at the first hint of danger.

But, how could a human break Inuyasha?

Not that Inuyasha had revealed everything: that much was obvious.

And why did he feel so guilty, over killing the woman with his claws? It wasn't as if she didn't obviously deserve death at his hands.

"I had not realized that humans could sink to such torture," said Cheiriyo. Myoga looked up, and saw that the youkai healer was deeply shaken. "I—I have been studying humans for some years. They are—they are more varied than any youkai kind, and may combine caring and hatred within the same body. And they like hanyo no more than youkai. " But, this…" he swallowed, looking ill, "… I had not imagined possible."

"Humans can be as greedy for power as any other," observed Bokuseno. "And if denied one path, will seek another."

"But, what do we do?" demanded Myoga, eager to get off the nebulous topic of human motivations and down to the particulars. "How did this 'dark priestess' manage to break the blood seal? It should have been unbreakable!"

"Nothing is unbreakable." Myoga twitched as he saw motion. Jumping around, he saw Bokuseno's 'face' forming within the leafy wall. "Not trees, nor mountains or taiyoukai. And when the taproot of a seal is lost, then that seal becomes vulnerable."

Myoga stiffened. "Lost? What is lost?"

"The black pearl."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hi! I spent most of November participating in the National Novel Writing Month, a challenge to write 50,000 words or more on a novel. I decided to concentrate on this serial. (I had started to do that last November, but was interrupted by pnuemonia.) I wrote about 53,000 words.

I did not finish the serial, but I am much closer, and hope to get the rough draft finished by the end of the year. Meanwhile, I will be editing the files from last month, and posting them here. My hope is to post at least one chapter a week. So enjoy! (12/3/11)


	23. That My Son Not Be Lost

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter XXII: That My Son Not Be Lost**

"What?" squawked Myoga, bouncing up and down on top of Inuyasha's head. "It can't be lost! How can it be lost!"

Bokuseno shivered his leaves in a sigh, as he considered his audience of three. Myoga's youkai sparked small but bright, carried on the air that caressed the tree's leaves. The other two, youkai and human, were more solid presences, impacting the ground through which his roots ran, radiating heat and the expired air that his leaves craved. In one of the leafy walls around their small refuge, which he had warded for secrecy, he had grown his 'face', having learned while still a sapling, that most beings related best to a single point, rather than grasping the whole. Into that 'face' he had his spells that concentrated his youki and his youkai senses, to give him something closer to that small, singular viewpoint mobile beings lived within.

Both Cheiriyo and Myoga had their eyes, and their attention focused on his 'face.' The human Inuyasha, however, did not. Instead, he was staring at the ground; his hands sinking through the moss as though he desired to grow roots and never move again.

Listening, Bokuseno had learned, was a mobile being's sense that did not require focus on a single point.

"It is missing," Bokuseno repeated. "It is not in him, as his father intended. It is gone, and I cannot find it. The winds bring me news from every direction, but there is no scent or word. My roots touch the roots of others, and what one knows, all know. But, none know of this black orb. Yet, it must be found, for that which is within the pearl is the only thing that will save Inuyasha's soul, should his youkai blood recover from the poison."

"Do you know where the pearl was hidden?" asked Cheiriyo, the youkai healer who had created the potion which had destroyed Inuyasha's youki, and brought him back to sanity—and humanity. "Could we guess how and when it was lost, then we would at least have a place to start looking. It would not be easy to destroy, I assume?"

"A jewel made by Hosinki?" asked Myoga. "Surely, you know Hosinki!"

"I know his reputation of course, Myoga. I did not know of this pearl: I was not privy to the Inu no Taisho's secrets in the last days … and did not wish to be."

Bokuseno waited patiently for the two mobile youkai to finish talking, and then continued. "The power contained by the black pearl cannot be destroyed, only invoked for its purpose. If it had been used, I and many others would have known. As to where it was intended to be within Inuyasha-sama's being, even I know not, for the Inu no Taisho did not tell me. He left only a riddle behind."

"A riddle?"

"A place one can see, yet cannot be seen. A place its own guardian can never look upon."

Cheiriyo frowned, and looked down, as many did when thinking hard. "A riddle, indeed. Seen, yet unseen?"

Inuyasha stirred, the old tree noted, but the boy said nothing.

"Indeed. He wanted his son safe, and bent his talents and strength to that end."

Cheiriyo looked back up. "What did he do? How did he know that Inuyasha's blood would be too strong for his human half? I understood that he died the night that Inuyasha was born?"

"The taiyoukai gave the last of his strength, to insure the survival of his mortal mate and hanyo son," said the ancient tree. "It happened long ago, by human terms, but the memories are in my wood, and they are as yesterday."

"Would you honor us with that story?" asked the healer. "I … I wish to know."

"I will speak, if Inuyasha wishes to hear."

The healer shifted his attention to the boy, disappointment in the air he exhaled. Myoga was silent, in his position on top of Inuyasha's head, because Bokuseno intended his silence.

"Mama told me about that night," said Inuyasha, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. "But, she never mentioned a black pearl. How could a pearl protect me?"

"It was not the pearl, but what it contained that is the tap root of your seal, little sapling. Do you wish to know more?"

"I … suppose."

The boy did not sound enthusiastic, but the tree was aware that he was suffering from what was called 'fatigue.' It was not something the tree really understood, for the closest analogy was the semi dormant level he descended to in winter, when his leaves fell and the world grew cold. But, the boy was not in that dormant state known as 'sleep,' and so, hopefully, his lesser brain would still be capable of remembering what was said.

"Very well. This is what I know. Listen well, little sapling…"

… … …

_Two centuries ago..._

Izayoi winced and swayed, hand reaching out for a supportive pillar. He was at her side in a flash. While wrapping one arm around her slender shoulders, the taiyoukai placed his other over the swell of her belly. "Be still, little one," he whispered, youki dancing from his spread fingers in a specific pattern. "There's no danger here."

She sighed, leaning against him, relaxing as the pain faded. Picking up Izayoi, the Inu no Taisho carried his beloved from the open room towards their inner suite. Setting her down on the futon, he pulled a cover up to her chin, and gave her a concerned frown.

"You said your reiki spells were keeping the pup's youki in check," he said. "What happened, Izayoi?"

She smiled wanly at him. "We were fine, until the youkai attacked the gates. I tried to stay calm, but some of our people were panicking, and forgetting their training. I fear I became somewhat annoyed with some of them."

"And, of course, the pup reacted to your excitement," he concluded with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, beloved."

With a shrug of a shoulder, the taiyoukai dismissed his armor, leaving only his silks and furred cape. "You have nothing to be sorry about, my butterfly," he murmured, lying down and drawing her close. He dropped a kiss on her bangs, then started to move lower. With a giggle, she pressed her hands against him, eyes dancing.

"Isn't it a bit early, my lord?" she teased.

"Humph. May not the lord possess his woman when he pleases? As if any of your lot would dare interrupt us."

She sighed, snuggling closer. "They've been very brave, to come here at all, my love."

"None as brave as you," he breathed, nuzzling her cheekbone.

She laughed. "Love makes one fearless."

"Oh? You loved me, even that first day, when I stole your family's bull?"

"I was angry. Really angry. You were being such a bad dog…"

"Bad dog, am I?"

"Always." She pulled his head closer and kissed him.

… … ….

The full moon was rising high when the Inu no Taisho landed on a mountaintop and let himself transform in to his true shape. Sighing, he flopped down on his belly, resting his head on his forelegs, watching the moon. He gave himself permission to drift into the simpler instincts and thoughts of his canine form, letting the world's energy flow around him without making an effort to intellectually interpret what he sensed.

But, his senses were no less at alert, and he was on his feet, muttering a soft growl, before the dragon flew into view. He watched, tense and on guard, until the dragon swirled into a tight, descending spiral. He transformed in almost perfect synchronization with the other youkai, leaving two seeming men on the mountain.

Ryukotsusei strolled towards him, a leering smile on his face. "You do know what I'm going to do, once I locate where you've hidden your little human whore."

He smiled back, hiding his slight relief that the dragon had been misled, into thinking that the place his minion had attacked was only another trap set by the dog youkai. "How long will your clan support your senseless campaign against me, lord Ryukotsusei?"

The other snarled, his striped face turning ugly. "As long as it takes to kill you and that woman!" he snarled. "You are a disgrace, a perversion! You shame all our kind!"

"Really." The Inu no Taisho gave him a skeptical eyebrow. "So eager to kill, but so unwilling to do it openly. Could it be you are still afraid of me, Ryukotsusei?"

"I fear nothing!" the dragon roared, his youki spiking for a moment, before he brought it under control. "I merely wait for the right moment," he hissed, eyes narrowing. "I wait for you to stand in the center of destruction, the blood of that poisonous woman red on your hands. I wait for the moment of your despair, your weakness. Then, I will take you, I will tear you limb from limb, I will fling the pieces in front of all the dogs who think they are our equal. And then, I will destroy your son, that your blood will die out forever!"

The Inu no Taisho laughed. "You? Kill Sesshomaru? You had best try soon, then, for when he is full grown, he will surpass even me. You do not think his name was chosen as a jest, do you?"

"Pah! He is but a puppy! When he sees your body, he will charge for my position, all full of youthful fire for vengeance. He will not see my traps nor heed any caution—"

The Inu no Taisho barked a laugh. "You know my son not at all. Perhaps you would like to repeat your fantasy to his face?"

The dragon's head snapped up. He sniffed once, then snarled and spun in place. Transforming, he was slithering through the sky on his way north. He was not yet out of sight, when Sesshomaru dropped down beside his father.

"Why was that dragon here?" he asked.

The Inu no Taisho turned to face his son, taking pleasure in the bright, hard edges of his son's youki. "He seeks weakness," he said shortly. "He has yet to find it."

His son's eyes narrowed. "We should kill him."

He smiled. "He will die when it is his time," he said, reaching up to grip his son's shoulder. "If not at my hand, then at the hand of my son."

He saw the brief flicker of pleasure and pride in the golden eyes, and knew that he would never explain, that it was almost certainly not his elder son who would do the deed. "You have been seeking me," he said, blandly changing topic.

"Why can I not find that palace, where you stashed your human woman?" demanded the adolescent inu. "I try to go to the same place I found you, but cannot. And I find traces of your spells, of shielding, all over the western lands. What are you up to, father?"

"I am protecting Izayoi and those humans who look to her," he said. "Why are you looking for me?"

"There are more rumors, that you are weakening."

The Inu no Taisho's smile was thin. "Tell your imp to stop repeating every bit of gossip he hears."

"But your aura is weaker," said Sesshomaru, stubbornly. "And, why aren't you wearing Tessaiga?"

"Tessaiga is where it must be," he replied, forebearing to mention that it was with Izayoi, protecting her and the palace. "And if you think my aura is weaker, well, perhaps, it is only because yours is still increasing."

Sesshomaru gave him a glare. "No," he said. "I know what I feel."

The pup clearly wanted to know his plans. For a moment, the old taiyoukai considered the possibilities, one part of him yearning to give into temptation. He and the pup had not run side by side in a long time. Once, he had envisioned a time when Sesshomaru would surpass him, a time when he would gracefully release the grip on power, and laze about in his true form, enjoying the spectacle of watching his son learning the intricacies of true power. But, it was not to be.

"What you feel is of no concern to me," he stated cooly. "Why were you seeking me out?"

A flicker of frustration passed over the porcelain face. "When are you going to give up that ningen?"

The Inu no Taisho hid his disappointment. "She is not your concern."

His son's hands clenched. "She's leading you to destruction! Don't you realize how many enemies you've made! Give her up, father!"

"Do not beg of me, Sesshomaru." The Inu no Taisho stepped closer, letting his ire and youki rise, as cold as a mountain glacier. "I have made my choices."

Sesshomaru was not yet quite able to avoid flinching. "But—"

He seized both his son's shoulders, letting the chill die. "Sesshomaru. I disappoint you. I know. Someday, you may learn to understand. But, for now …" He hardened his expression again. "Go."

"I—"

"Go. Our paths cannot run together."

"Father—"

He forced his son to turn, and shoved him. "Go." He buffeted the youngster with his youki. Sesshomaru stumbled a few steps, looked over his shoulder as his father's forbidding expression, and then, with a snarl, transformed. Turning to face his father, his red eyes flashed, a fang was bared, and then, the young dog was in the air, galloping with his nose pointed skywards.

The Inu no Taisho watched him leave, no sign of regret in his face or in his aura. When the last wisp of youki had vanished, he looked up at the moon, now just past zenith. The taiyoukai let his senses expand, flowing from mountaintop to valley, listening, smelling, feeling. There were no higher youkai within range, but he took precautions anyway, whispering spells of deflection and invisibility, wrapping his own power within tightly held bonds. A wind, presaging autumn, teased his hair and his fur, carrying a scent of rain, though the sky was clear. The aging taiyoukai felt around him once more, and then unsheathed the single blade at his sash.

Balancing the glimmering blade in both hands, he raised it, until the moon's reflection blazed off the perfect blade. "Tensaiga," he whispered. "Sword of Heaven, Tessaiga's twin. Show me. Show me what may be."

The blade flashed blue.

And the taiyoukai closed his outer eyes, as his inner eye opened to the stream of time itself.

For long and long, he had a gift that others called 'foresight,' which he had considered only to be the perfecting of the weapon that accumulated knowledge and wisdom could become. But, somehow, in the forging of Tensaiga, had come this gift. It was not a gift that Sesshomaru would ever be able to call on, for the potential had not been born within him.

Tensaiga had shown that.

But, for him, standing now in the light of the full moon, holding the blade that would one day cleave a path between worlds, he found himself standing not between worlds, but within the rivers of time. He had, for centuries unnumbered, the uncanny ability to know how an event would turn out, to know what action would best serve his goals. But this, blue-glowing Tensaiga bathed in moonlight, was far more. He saw futures: possibilities.

He saw his second son, the bright scarlet thread of the future, triumphant in some, shattered in some, howling in unbound, unthinking, soulless frenzy in some, slaughtered as a babe in some. He saw Izayoi, living to serene old age in some, dying in childbirth in some, dying at human hands in some, dying in fever in some. He saw Sesshomaru, ever more proud, rigid, and cold in most. He saw Sesshomaru falling under the gathered tides of enemies he had made, falling because he never found his way to his potential. Only in a few possibilities did Sesshomaru rise to his full potential and find the blade within: oddly, in all of those, was the warm, glimmering soul of a girl bound to his fate and his soul.

A human girl.

And, in most of those possibilities, he himself was absent. In those few where he lived, the cost was … unbearable.

He refused to bear that cost.

Tensaiga gave him no gift to change the future. But, what it did was enough. It clarified his understanding of those he wished to protect, even if he would do so only from beyond the grave. It gave him hints, on how to achieve his goals. It helped him see what must be done, in the very little time he had left…

The blade fell from his shaking hands, no longer glowing. The Inu no Taisho crumpled to hands and knees, panting, sweat beading his forehead. To invoke Tensaiga in such fashion took enormous amounts of youki, and he refused to deny that he was not weakening by its use. The final battle would come, and soon, and he had made his own death far likelier, by seeking to glimpse the future.

But, no matter. As long as the possibilities allowed Izayoi and their son to live beyond his death, as long as he found the way to protect his precious, unborn hanyo son from the effects of his own youkai blood: it would be enough. Once he had the proper tests and traps set up for his elder son, to ensure that his bright, stubborn, and arrogant pure-youkai son learned the compassionate path to his full self: that was enough.

Sunrise found him still on the mountaintop, still recovering … and still planning. After he pushed himself to his feet, the taiyoukai turned to bathe in the golden light for some moments, before transforming and galloping into the sky.

He had many tasks to fulfill as yet, and the number of days was trickling down with terrifying speed. But, he was confident. He would complete all that he would be allowed to do in this world. He would need to visit the triumvirate of his eldest friends—Bokuseno, Totosai, and Hosinki. He could not foresee all answers, but he knew, at least, where to find the path to the needed answers.

And he had glimpsed one scene which made him smile: One day soon, he would return to the palace and give Izayoi a necklace of white pearl and diamonds. At its center would be a pendant, the seeming of a perfect, white shell. And within that shell, would be a secret.

A black pearl that hid even greater secrets.

Unknowing, Izayoi would be its guardian, until it became time for the child to receive it.

The spells to hide it and move it, would be intricate and powerful, sapping still more of his declining strength.

But, it was necessary.

That his son would not be lost to himself, he would sacrifice everything except his other two loves.

If it meant dying, to give those three their best chances for successful futures, so be it.

He would die with no regrets.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I said the next update would maybe be in a week? Well, I had not noticed that the next chapter was one I used for a one-shot for one of the LiveJournal's Inuyasha communities, and so was already fairly well edited. I did make some changes, removing some extraneous phrases that helped the chapter stand on its own, but which are not needed in this form. The one-shot version was posted to the Inuyasha FanFic Contest, for the prompt "Long Ago," on November 7th, 2011. It won first place. (12/4/2011)


	24. Fighting Despair

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**XXIII: Fighting Despair**

Inuyasha huddled in on himself, as if to hide the world away. He didn't know what he felt more: awe at his father's clairvoyant abilities, or apprehension. His youkai sire had been able to _see_ what he might become? And had acted to try and make the desired future become a reality?

Had he foreseen _this?_ Seen his son a total failure, stripped of his youki, turned _human?_ Had he _wanted _this?

Why couldn't he have worked for a future where Izayoi had lived a long and happy life, even if it meant he had never been born?

"Inuyasha?"

He felt the healer's hand on his shoulder, and tried not to pull away. Why couldn't they just leave him alone! They were youkai! They didn't know him! He didn't want their sympathy, their pretense of understanding! Why couldn't they just go away!

"Is there something I can get you, Inuyasha?" persisted Cheiriyo. "I can feel your disturbance…"

If he said anything, if he moved, it would all come out. He wanted to run, but there was no place to run to. He wanted to fight, but he was trapped. Trapped in this human body, trapped within Bokuseno's control, trapped in a youkai forest. He wanted to scream, he wanted to rage, but he wouldn't! He wouldn't give them more to see, more to laugh at, when they were finished pretending to be kind. He wouldn't do it!

The hand went away. Inuyasha tightened his grip around his legs, wanting the rest of the world to go away. To forget about him. To forget about a stupid, terrified, craven hanyo-turned-human—

Something stung his neck. He twitched, but refused to move. If Myoga wanted his blood, so what? He didn't care!

But the flea didn't suck. Instead, he bit again. And again, and again, tracking down to the nape of Inuyasha's neck, then up the other side. Inuyasha bore it as long as he could, but when the flea reversed direction and started a second row, he lost it.

With a shriek, he lunged to his feet, slapping the back of his neck. He missed. Myoga skittered down his back, underneath his clothes, bit again, and continued to scramble. "Ow, ow, ow!" yelled Inuyasha, writhing as he tried to swat the flea. "Stop it, you damn, miserable, good for nothing flea! Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

Myoga ran out from underneath a sleeve and jumped. Inuyasha lashed out, but was too slow. "Come back here, Myoga!"

Myoga landed on the healer's outstretched hand. "Anger becomes you much better than despair, master," he said smugly, before groaning. "Ugh—and your blood still tastes horrible."

"Good! So maybe you'll stop biting me!"

"Oh, no, I'm sure your blood will resume it's delicious tang in a few more days." Myoga pulled out a tiny handkerchief and began to clean his snout and whiskers. "I am so looking to that feast."

"Yeah? Well, feast on this!"

He lunged, reaching to snatch Myoga and crush him. But, the youkai healer was faster, grasping his wrist with his free hand. "Be calm, Inuyasha-sama."

"Let me go, you stinking youkai bastard!" Inuyasha tried to pull away, then reversed course and jumped forward, intending to tackle the youkai and take him down.

Cheiriyo released his wrist and nimbly leaped sideways. Inuyasha's momentum took him into one of the brushy walls."Please, stop, Inuyasha-sama," he said quietly. "There is no need for anger. I only wish to help."

"Help?" Inuyasha snarled. "Like you helped destroy my youki? Like you helped make me human? I don't need any more of your help!" He lunged for the youkai, who again slipped away from his fists.

"There is no need for this," protested the healer. "Please calm down, Inuyasha-sama."

"Shut up! Shut up and fight, you stinking youkai!"

The healer danced away again, circling in the limited space. Inuyasha turned, and then felt something snag his clothing from behind. He yelled, and tried to writhe free. But, the snagging branches surged forward with creaks and rustles, capturing his upper arms, starting to wrap downwards towards his hands.

"No!" he shrieked, struggling. "Let go! Let me go!"

"Stop it!"

It was amazing how loud a tiny flea could be.

The rustling stopped. Panting, sweating, even Inuyasha stopped struggling for the moment, looking towards the tiny voice. Perched on top of the healer youkai's head, Myoga had his back to Inuyasha, staring into the distance.

"Release him, Bokuseno," demanded the flea.

"He is attempted to harm one of my guests. I will not allow it."

"He's human. He can't harm Cheiriyo. He needs to fight. Let him."

"But, I do not wish to fight him," objected the healer. "He should be resting, not fighting."

"He needs to fight," insisted the flea. "I know him. He needs to fight. Let him fight."

Inuyasha glared at the flea, pulling against branches, and growled. He didn't _need_ to fight! He just needed to be left alone! But, if they wanted him to fight, he would! Just let him get his hands on that pale youkai's neck!

"Very well," conceded Cheiriyo. "Bokuseno-sama, if you could give us a bit more room?"

There was a creaking grumble of discontent. "This is a thing of mobile life I do not understand," complained the tree. "But, since you ask, healer."

The branches released Inuyasha. He shook himself, then warily watched beneath ragged wisps of black hair as the walls of leaves and bushes moved out, forming a larger, circular space. One part of him suggested that he should turn his back and sit down, just to prove Myoga wrong. But, he was angry: angry and scared and furious, and he just wanted to hit something!

… … …

Inuyasha dropped to his hands and knees, panting harshly, every lock of his short hair dripping with sweat. Cheiriyo watched him alertly, barely starting to breathe deeply. "Are you finished?" he asked.

"Go find a tree branch to fuck, plant-sniffer," retorted the human, between pants. "Preferably one that hurts."

The insult was mild by Inuyasha's standards, as Cheiriyo had learned during that most interesting fight. Some of the insults had so startled and dismayed him, that he had left himself open, twice. For a human—especially one who should have been weak and exhausted from the poisoning—Inuyasha had a surprisingly heavy fist. The human boy also had amazing stamina, and an incredibly stubborn inability to give in. The healer had lost track of how many times he had tumbled the boy off his feet—as gently as possible, naturally! And yet, time after time, the boy had staggered back to his feet, swaying, gasping for air, his face flushed an alarming shade of red. Cheiriyo had waited, expecting that the boy would crumple back to the ground, and simply quit. And he hadn't.

But, this time, he did look finished. Even as Cheiriyo mused on the human boy's stubbornness, Inuyasha went to his elbows, and then, with a groan, flopped onto his side. "Toss him a container of water, and let him be for a bit," suggested a voice from on top of his head. "He may be a bit readier to reason, then." A sniff, and a sigh. "Alas, my young master is not very often reasonable."

"I—heard—that," wheezed Inuyasha. "You are—going to be—so squished—when I—get—my hands—on you."

"If the hands that catch me are clawed, I will be happily squished, Inuyasha-sama," retorted Myoga. "Cheiriyo-san, why don't you and I leave Inuyasha to himself, for now? Perhaps, when we come back, Inuyasha may even have an idea of what might have happened to the black pearl."

"Hey! I didn't lose it on purpose, jiji!"

"Never said you did, Inuyasha-sama."

"Feh!"

Cheiriyo decided that Myoga's suggestion was reasonable. It was apparent, as he turned that Bokuseno was of the same opinion. The wall was opening up, with far more space than needed for one of the tree's monkey-like inhabitants to trot in, bearing the suggested wooden tube of water. Slipping through the opening, Cheiriyo decided to concentrate on more mundane matters, than the problem of the boy's poisoned youkai and the missing, mysterious pearl. Inuyasha was going to be desperately hungry when he recovered, and given his inu heritage, would probably prefer meat—and might well demand it, oblivious to the insult he would give Bokuseno.

He should speak with the small youkai community centered around the tree. They might have some suggestions. It wasn't the first time that Bokuseno had played host to one of the carnivorous time, after all.

… … …

Akeneka had returned to the sleeping area, but was even less unwilling to nap than before. After pacing back and forth for a good while, she finally settled down on the mossy pad to examine her injured limb, which was aching again. Unwrapping the hand and wrist, she studied the red, swollen lines running down her flesh beneath the remnants of the green lotion the healer had spread earlier. She thought about his earlier words, about concentrating when she transformed, to will her shape to wholeness.

A thought occurred to her. Why did she have to make a complete transformation? Self-shaping was a matter of concentration and visualization and will—why couldn't she just reshape her hand and wrist back to its healed form?

It was certainly worth trying.

The vixen slightly shifted her position to get more comfortable. Grasping her mutilated wrist with her other hand, one dainty claw resting next to one of the red lines, she stared at that one line, willing it to disappear. Her skin was pale, unmarred, there was no pain—she willed it!

She stared at that line, concentrating with all her mind, tense with effort.

Nothing happened. She gritted her teeth, glaring at the half-healed line, willing it to go away. Her hand and her wrist were uninjured. She willed it! Go away!

Nothing. Except that her shoulders and her neck started to cramp with tension. "Rabbit bits," she muttered to herself, tossing her head and wriggling her shoulders to relieve the discomfort. "Why doesn't it work?"

"A problem, sapling?"

Akeneka twitched, having forgotten that the tree who was her host could eavesdrop anywhere within his domain. "No," she said curtly, not looking up. "Just—thinking."

"Your youki curls and snags and accomplishes nothing," observed the old tree. "Youki should flow free and clear."

She looked towards the source of the voice. "What are you talking about?" she asked, cross. "I'm only trying to heal my arm!"

"Is it not healing of its own accord, with assistance from the healer?" asked Bokuseno. "What is the hurry, little sapling?"

"I don't want to wait."

The leaves all around her rustled as a breeze teased her cheek. "Always impatient, you mobile ones. Rushing here, rushing there. Even when trying to be still, your thoughts rush; your thoughts chatter and clash and churn, blocking the flow." Something stirred at the periphery of her vision: turning her head slightly, she saw a single branch growing out of the ground between her and the current wall. Youki flowed almost visibly through and around it, a stream of smooth, untangled power. The branch grew straight to a third of her height, then began to curl and loop, bending under the shifting youki—or was it bending the youki? It curled through a loop and a half, then popped out a pair of leaves, followed by a swelling bud. The bud blossomed into a glowing flower. Popping off its stem, it danced and swayed on an invisible stream of youki.

It finally settled into her lap, and the stream of youki faded. "Your kind is always changing, little sapling," murmured the tree. "Is it always as hard as you were making it?"

She didn't know how she knew that Bokuseno's attention turned away from her at that point. Lifting the flower and smelling its calming scent, Akeneka thought. She could not remember her first transformation, from fox cub to the half-human form most her kind took as their most common form. But, she did remember the day she had learned to make the switch back. Her father had taken her out of the den and played with her, teaching her a number of small tricks, encouraging her to do what he did, until he had finally started to run. She had followed him, and when he had changed to four-footed form, she had changed, too, mimicking him with childish ease.

Odd, that learning to take her third form, under Rikaru's tutelage, had taken so long. She remembered how it had finally come to her, one night, clinging to a branch on a high tree near her den. The moon had been high, the breeze teasing and nipping her hair. She had spotted the owl she had been trying so long to emulate landing silently on a branch near by. He had looked at her with his golden eyes, hooted once, and then slowly opened his wings. Somehow, she had perceived the flex and pull of muscle and bone. Without stopping to think, she had released her hold on the branch, copying his motion, feeling the _owl_ form within her that wanted out. He swept down his wings as he leaped, and she followed him, feeling as if she were made of wind and air, not solid flesh—

Oh. Of course.

She felt her youki glimmering around her, flowing through her. She was not her wounded hand. She was herself. She was the kitsune who had been so delighted to learn how to change shapes from fox to semi-human and back to fox. Closing her eyes, she remembered what she was, how she felt when she moved to her human form—all long legs and long arms and slim agile fingers, purple eyes, and long, long hair…

"Ouch!"

She slapped her neck, feeling something flatten beneath her palm. Pulling her hand away, she glared at the flattened form drifting towards her lap. "Myoga!"

"Oh, such a life!" he groaned, and then popped back to his normal form. "You were smelling so lovely and strong, my dear Akeneka! A sip, that's all I wanted, a merest sip!"

"Well, ask, sometimes," she replied, crossly. She'd been feeling so good right before he stung her.

He gave her a hopeful look. "Could I please have more?" he asked. "I had to bite Inuyasha-sama so many times: his blood is usually _sooo_ good, but it's still just awful, and I really _need_ a good meal, and the youki you used to heal your hand just smells _sooo_ good."

"No, you—wait. My hand?" Startled, she looked down at her right hand. And stared. "I did it!" The first time was a bare, stunned whisper. "I did it! I did it I did it!"

… … …

Inuyasha rolled onto his back, still panting. His legs and arms were trembly and fiercely heavy, unwilling to move. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired and winded after a fight—but, then, how often did he fight as a human?

Never. Not with a youkai, at any rate.

After all, fighting a youkai while human automatically meant he would end up dead.

Or, so he'd thought.

Gah. Why was the world so mixed up? It was daylight, and he was human. He'd fought a youkai, and lived. And wasn't even injured, because the youkai had not been trying to hurt him.

That youkai healer, he thought, was just—odd. He'd never thought that youkai would have healers. And his way of fighting—well, maybe it was just because Cheiriyo was obviously trying not to hurt him. But, that manner of moving his head first in a turn, and the way he tended to strike down with his hands, with stiffened, straight fingers, instead of fists… he'd never seen a human-shaped youkai fight like him.

Did he have another shape? Inuyasha wondered, then remembered the reference from Cheiriyo's description of being chased by the panther clan. Chased down in his 'true form'. What was his true form?

"Mountain elk."

Inuyasha blinked, his body too tired to start. Belatedly, he realized that he'd muttered the question aloud. Elk. Huh. Well that explained some things. Like his weird way of fighting.

"Do you require anything, little sapling?"

_Sapling?_ "Yeah," he grumbled. "Peace and quiet. And don't call me 'sapling.'"

"As you wish."

_Trees._ He didn't understand why any self-aware being would want a form that did nothing but stand in one place all the time.

And to think, his dad had been friends with one.

Mama had never mentioned _that._

Probably hadn't known.

His eyes ached with a sudden burn, as he felt a sudden grief at her absence. Mama's lap would feel so good right now, with her fingers stroking his brow, singing softly to him.

He wondered if Kikyo's lap would feel as good—

Kikyo.

Inuyasha's eyes snapped open. He remembered how he had last seen her; held in the monk's arms, her face full of hurt and confusion. She hadn't wanted him to leave, but he'd had no choice. How could he stay with her, when at any moment, he might transform into that ravening monster?

Were he truly human now, he could go back, couldn't he?

But, how would he ever know for sure? Even if he went more than a moon cycle without transforming, would that really prove anything? Wouldn't there always be that chance, that the lurking monster in his blood would overpower him, and kill everything he held dear?

How could he take that chance?

He could _never_ go back.

His throat tightened, and his eyes burned even more fiercely. Feeling the hot trickle of tears, Inuyasha managed to roll back onto his side and pull one heavy, painfully aching arm over his face. Not that it would fool any youkai nose. Did youkai cry? Oh, but what difference did it make? Why did it have to be like this, why did Tsubaki have to capture him, instead of just killing him? Why could he have not found a way to make her kill him, instead of surviving all that torture?

Damn it, no! Wanting to get away from his memories, Inuyasha moved again, onto his belly, intending to push himself up to his feet, although with no idea of what he would do once he had reached that state.

Pain rippled through his arm muscles, as they refused to lift him. He hurt. He hurt all over.

Dread twisted his gut. He was on his stomach, in pain. Fear seized him. No. Not again. Not this. Not helpless. He reached forward with his arms. He had to move. He had to get away. But, his hands were bare of claws that could sink into the ground. He couldn't move.

Terror rose. He couldn't hear. He couldn't smell. He couldn't move. They would be after him. All of them. They would hurt him, torture him, beat him, break his bones, do terrible things. They were coming. He couldn't smell them, couldn't hear them, but they were there. Watching him, salivating, laughing.

Rustling, buzzing _sound._

_Flash._ Image: two tiny, red-eyed youkai with needle-pointed, barbed beaks and clawed, barbed forelimbs, blurred from their speed and closeness to his face, tiny centers of pure greed and hate.

White-hot pain turned day to night. Inuyasha screamed, writhing, fingers clawing at his face, in mindless effort to pull free the nonexistent demons...

* * *

**Author's Note:** So much for getting a chapter posted every week this month. Sorry about that-real life was in the way (classes, certification exam, and holidays). Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up before the end of the weekend, since the family get together isn't until the end of next week. (12/23/11) 


	25. On Nightmares

**Disclaimer:** _This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Chapter 24: Of Nightmares**

He was dissolving into blue flames. Rikaru could not feel his body, only the dance, and flicker of the fire. He was weightless, timeless. He was one with the fire.

No! He couldn't remember anything, and yet, he knew that something was wrong. There should be something else besides the fire. He wasn't fire. He was something else. Something denser, colder, more solid. But, what? What was he?

He tried to think, but the flames distracted him. There was nothing in the world except the beautiful, enticing flames. Why shouldn't he accept the dissolution, become one with the fire? Why was that wrong? What was this feeling? What was it called?

A whimper. He recognized it—sound. There was more in the world than just fire. And the sound—his sound. He had made it. He had whimpered. Why? He was—afraid. But, why was he afraid? The fire was beautiful—so beautiful.

The world around him abruptly convulsed with a sneeze. Rikaru gasped for breath, coughed, and realized his face was soaked with water, which was icy cold. Which was also in his ears. He shook his head violently, trying to get rid of the water.

"Ah. Good foxling. Found the way out of the flames, did you? Not bad. Not bad."

The voice was unfamiliar and odd, sounding rather like water over stone. "What? Who are you?" He opened his eyes, but saw only flames.

"I? I am who I am, little fox. You fell into me, you and the hanyo. I quenched your flames, and brought you here."

Here? Fell? Hanyo?

Inuyasha!

Memory and rage exploded. He remembered. Shinkubi shattered, falling in a ruin of bleeding flesh. Akeneka falling, Eijimaru tumbling, inexpert wings beating wildly. And the hanyo, laughing, laughing!

Hate! Rage! They howled within him, transforming to blue flame. Burn the hanyo! Burn him, kill him! Thoughts began to dissolve.

Water smacked his face again and descended over his body. "Stupid foxling. Fire cannot control fire. Will you lose me my deal with the great tree? Foolish foxling."

Rikaru coughed and wheezed, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to parse the words of the other, trying to think through the fiery haze of his hate and his rage. "Fire … can't control fire? What...what do you mean?"

"Not quite yet lost, foxling?" He felt a wave of cold water wash over his back. "Good. Fire feeds fire, foolish foxling, as air feeds air, and water feeds water. The highest forms of power cannot be controlled by the power itself, but only by its opposite. Fire needs ice, and ice needs fire. Find your ice, foxling, if you would have your revenge. Find your ice, or burn up in your own flames, foxling.

"Your choice."

Rikaru shivered from the cold soaking his fur, panting. He tried not to think of his anger and hate, struggling to concentrate on the words of the other.

Find his ice? What did that mean?

… … …

Cheiriyo bolted through the opening. Inuyasha was on his back, heels digging into the ground, his hands held up and arched into claws, shaking. His eyes were tightly shut, and he was screaming as if he were in utter agony.

The healer went to his knees beside the screaming human, and felt helpless. There was no visible sign of injury, so why was the boy screaming? Was it a nightmare? Hesitantly, he gently gripped the boy's shoulder and shook him. "Inuyasha-sama?" he called. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare. You're safe." He shook him again, several times, but the screams continued, unabated. "What do I do?" muttered the youkai, feeling Myoga on his shoulder. "He won't wake up. I don't want to hurt him, but why is he screaming?"

"He's not asleep," said Myoga, dropping down to Inuyasha's neck. He hesitated, then plunged his snout through the human's skin. He sucked several moments before pulling away with a shudder and a groan, which could not be heard over the screams.

"Oh, enough!" Cheiriyo jerked back, startled, as water splashed across Inuyasha's face from a wooden water-bottle with its top tore off. The healer snapped his head up, to see Akeneka standing on Inuyasha's other side, emptied container in her hand, an annoyed expression on her face. He opened his mouth to remonstrate, and then realized that Inuyasha had fallen quiet.

He returned his attention to the human. "Inuyasha," he said, shaking the shoulders again. "Inuyasha, what's wrong?"

The boy whimpered. "I'm blind! I'm blind, and my hands, my hands! I pulled them out, and my hands, the pain, it hurts!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, black hair," snapped Akeneka, going to her knees. "Just open your eyes!"

"I can't, it hurts, it hurts!"

Cheiriyo gave the young kitsune a frown then returned his attention to Inuyasha. Leaning over the boy, he carefully touched the boy's face, smoothing back sweat-matted bangs, then pressing the palm of his hand gently but firmly against the side of the face.

"Inuyasha, tell me what's happening," he said, taking a guess, that the boy was somehow caught in a waking nightmare. "I'm here to help you—tell me what's happening."

The human whimpered, panting. "They blinded me. Saw them. Couldn't move fast, everything's broken. Arms. Legs. Flew. Flew into eyes—no!" His body jerked, almost convulsing. "Get them out! Get them out!" he shrieked, voice climbing towards a scream.

"Inuyasha!" Remembering that Inuyasha had mentioned being blinded at one point during his imprisonment, taking a hint from the effects of the water, the youkai reached down and started lightly slapping the boy's face. "Inuyasha, can you hear me? Inuyasha, talk to me. Listen to me. Talk to me."

The human went still again, sniffing. "Can't—smell."

"You're in your human form, Inuyasha," said Cheiriyo. "It's all right, I'm here to help you. Understand?"

"It hurts."

"Yes. I'm trying to help you. Do you understand? Answer me."

"I—hear you."

"Good." He placed both hands around Inuyasha's head. "Can you feel my hands?"

A moment of hesitation. "I—yes."

"Does it hurt? Concentrate on my hands. Do they hurt?"

Inuyasha panted several breaths. "Don't—think so."

"Good. Now, listen to me. I want to open your eyes."

"No! I can't! I'm blind—it hurts!"

"It hurts, and I want you to open them anyway. I know you can."

"I can't! It hurts! They dove into my eyes, I pulled them out, they drove needles through my hands, dozens, and dozens of needles, but I wouldn't let go, I used youki to kill them, except for the round thing, it wouldn't go away, and it hurts, everything hurts!"

"Yes, you can, Inuyasha," said Cheiriyo, hardening his voice. "If you open your eyes, they should stop hurting."

"Huh?"

"I believe you are in a nightmare, Inuyasha. If you can open your eyes, you will know you are not where the nightmare tells you. Open your eyes."

A long moment of silence passed. Cheiriyo felt the jaw muscles beneath the base of his hands tense. And then, Inuyasha's eyes opened.

A moment later, they widened, staring. "I—I see you! You're—Ch-Cheiriyo?"

"Yes. Does it still hurt? Your eyes? Your hands?"

"I…" Dark gray eyes with vertical pupils slid out of focus. "No." Inuyasha's voice was soft, wondering. He pulled a hand in before his eyes and inspected it, turning it back and forth. "I don't—hurt. Just—feel tired."

"That's what you should be feeling," Cheiriyo observed, sitting back. Inuyasha turned his head a little to watch him, looking confused.

"I think that somehow, your mind traveled back to that moment when you were blinded by those youkai, and made you think it was happening again," he said, trying to explain. "I do not know whether this is a thing of humans: I have not heard of this kind of occurrence among youkai, except under a direct spell. Which I do not sense."

Inuyasha stared at him a long moment, and then looked away. "Stinking blood turds," he muttered under his breath. "Stupid, weak human blood."

"Human blood is not weak," Cheiriyo corrected. "Different."

"Keh. Shows what you know."

Cheiriyo had no answer. Inuyasha rolled over onto his side, putting his back to the healer, pulling his upper arm over his head. The healer frowned, not liking the human's implicit rejection of his presence. But, before he could puzzle out how he should respond, a small voice spoke up.

"Inuyasha-sama, what did you mean, by the 'round thing' that wouldn't go away?"

… … …

Kikyo turned a slow circle, examining her hut. It was completely bare, the wood gleaming wetly with its last scrubbing. The harsh tang of lye soap penetrated the air, underlain by hints of incense used in purification. There was not even a suggestion of the blood that had once splattered the floor and walls, nor any sense of the pain and death that had been soaked through that blood.

Idly, she wondered what Tsubaki had killed to create the original impression that she had killed Inuyasha. A moment later, she mentally shrugged it off, and smiled at Miyatsu.

"You've done a wonderful job, Miyatsu," she said. "I really didn't think it would possible, to get the blood stains out."

He gave her a grin, then spread his chapped, scabbed hands. "I think my hands have become much more virtuous than they used to be. If I had known how much effort it took to get blood stains out of wood…"

She couldn't help smiling back. "Had you ever cleaned wood before?"

"I did my part washing the temple floor with the other novices, of course," he replied. "But, the floor was cleaned every day—it never was dirty. Compared to this…" He rolled his eyes.

Kikyo had to swallow a laugh. She felt a bit sorry for him: she strongly suspected that he came from a wealthy family, and that he had probably avoided the dirtiest of the chores in the temple of his novitiate. He had been appalled at the suggestion that the hut should be burnt down, as irreparable. But, no one, especially the women, were willing to go inside the hut to attempt to clean it, even after Miyatsu had worked his most powerful purification spells. His open incredulity at their unwillingness had led to the suggestion that he do the cleansing, if he thought it was doable. He had bristled at the suggestion and agreed. And so, for the last six days, he had spent almost half of each day scrubbing.

At least he had only used part of the first day, before going to Satsuki, the headman's wife, and asking for advice on cleaning.

"So," she asked, "would you still insist on trying the save the hut, if you had it to do over?"

He laughed. "My puffed up sense of pride says 'yes', of course. After all, it is a waste of wood, in what is a poor village. And is not fixing, rather than destroying, a virtuous thing?" He turned his hands over and examined the nails. "But, I fear my hands would be eager to grasp the first torch." He grimaced, though the dark-blue eyes glancing at her were twinkling. "What woman would want these poor rough, scabbed hands on her soft skin?"

Her mouth twitched. "You haven't asked any of them what they use to keep their skin from chapping?"

"Why, no." For a moment, he looked chagrined, and then he shook his head and smiled. "What a wonderful idea, my lady Kikyo. May I ask whether you have any such? And would you be willing to salve these hands that have worked so hard to your benefit?"

Oddly, she didn't find his flirting as irritating as she usually did. "I don't have any at the moment," she said with a smile and a head-shake. "I bought my last jar from Amaya. I'm sure she has more: perhaps she would be willing to massage those poor, abused hands?"

"Amaya? Are you being cruel, woman? Do you know what she threatened to do to my hands the other day?"

"She's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Not that bad? She's worse than my mother's aunt!"

She laughed. "If she's that bad, I'll buy a jar from her and work on your hands myself. It's small enough payment, for what you've done here."

The laughter in his face abruptly dropped away, and he took a step toward her. "You would … do this for me, Kikyo-sama?"

She looked into those odd, dark-blue eyes and felt—something. Her breath caught, and she felt hot in places, and almost dizzy—

The next moment, Kikyo looked away, her face flaming, as she recognized what she felt. How could she feel attraction for a man? She was a miko. And Inuyasha—how many days had it been since he fled? Nine? Ten? This was—this was wrong!

"I am a healer, houshi-sama," she said, trying to school her voice to cool disinterest. "Even small injuries should not be ignored."

She gripped her crutch and began to limp out of the hut, refusing to look at him again, hoping her reddened face would pale before anyone saw it.

… … …

They had questioned him for awhile, until it became obvious that Inuyasha was so exhausted that he was contradicting himself with every other sentence, and clearly not understanding half of what they were asking.

Cheiriyo was the first to realize, and could have kicked himself to not have realized the obvious sooner. "Bokuseno, Myoga, we need to let Inuyasha sleep. We surely don't need all the answers right now."

"No sleep," objected Inuyasha who was sitting up, a forgotten flask of water in his hands. "T-too many y-youkai. T-too many … nightmares."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" demanded Myoga. "You're perfectly safe with Bokuseno."

"It's not surprising, if he feels unsafe, Myoga," chided Cheiriyo. He glanced towards the current location of Bokuseno's leafy 'face.' "I have no potion to keep a human dreamless, Bokuseno-sama. Perhaps there is a spell?"

"The sapling's air reeks of the need for dormancy," rustled the tree. "Undisturbed dormancy will be achieved."

"But, he hasn't told us enough!" objected Myoga. "If what he felt was the pearl that had been hidden in his eye, we've got to find out where that attack happened! All he's told us so far, is that this Tsubaki was a black priestess who had youkai inside her!"

"And that she was served by a tanuki," pointed out Cheiriyo.

"Tanuki are common—we need more information."

"The combination of energies is uncommon. The forest will learn where this bent human lived. The message spreads, and the human will sleep." From one of the over-arching branches, a bud popped out, swelled, bloomed, and then dropped. Pale, creamy petals glowed softly as it drifted down and touched down on tangled, black hair. Inuyasha twitched, eyes widening momentarily, but then he slumped, eyes sliding shut before he could realize what was happening. The ground rippled, sending the boy onto his side, and then his back, as the green, moss-like stuff beneath him thickened, and pale, limber branches shot out of the ground and began to weave a cocoon around him. Giving an inarticulate protest, Myoga made to jump through the weaving to Inuyasha's side: a growth smacked him in midair, sending him flying towards Cheiriyo who caught him.

The leafy cocoon was finished in a very short period of time. "Inuyasha will sleep until dawn," stated the old tree, his 'face' giving the other three youkai a good version of a gimlet stare. "The forest will know what is to be known by then."

"And if Inuyasha's youkai blood returns?" asked Cheiriyo.

"He will be constrained."

… … …

Youki winds whirled from above. Sesshomaru tilted his head up, then remained still, recognizing the source. In the dimming light, three broad-winged shapes rocketed high above the earth, silver wings coruscating with rainbows where the setting sun struck them. They were almost overhead when they dove, straight towards him. They drove straight down for about third of the height. Then, with bare flicks of youki and feather tips, they went into a spiral dance around a common center that directly drew a line to Sesshomaru's head. He watched them come, impassive, even as it began to look as if they must surely dash themselves into the ground.

At the last moment, their wings and youki flared. They pulled out of their dives at speeds impossible for mortal birds, rose, angled towards each other, and hurled into barrel rolls. Avoiding collisions by hairbreadths, they whirled around each other, and with a final flare of youki, transformed to their other shapes. White-haired, silver-eyed, garbed in white trimmed with blue, red, or black, the three drifted down to the ground, facing Sesshomaru.

He knew them, of course. He could remember their laughter and taunts, when, as a puppy, he had been learning to use his youki to fly. Their teasing had infuriated him then, though he had long since given up his anger, recognizing that his father, and their mother had surely allowed it, as a goad to speed his own development.

He acknowledged them and their skill with a nod. "You have danced for your mother, Shiraumou."

The single female of the three, taller than either of her brothers, returned the nod. "She died to bring you word of the invasion by the panther clans."

"Yes."

"Bokuseno-sama has sent word to us, of his need for our wings," she said. "My brothers will go on to answer his call. I will stay."

"For what reason?"

Her expression was not as perfect as his own; annoyance flickered, but over-set by a much deeper rage. "The panthers tortured and mortally wounded our mother. As eldest, it is my right to claim blood-vengeance."

"As you will." He acknowledged her intention with a very slight nod. His normal composure was unable to restrain his curiosity from glancing at the shorter brothers. "Did the Bokuseno explain his need?"

"Only that there was a great need, and a great treasure which must be retrieved," she said. "Our family is honored to be asked for service."

Doing the bidding of a tree, no matter how great, was not something he would consider an honor, but Shesshomaru would never reveal his thought.

"There is camp here," he said instead, "It is guarded; the panthers will not come take any unaware, should your brothers desire to rest."

"Thank-you, but no," she replied. "They have time to reach Bokuseno's branches before light dims entirely, if they push at speed."

"Then, I will not ask for them to tarry." He gave the two hawks a full look and a nod. They bowed in turn, turned and bowed again to their sister, then leaped away from the ground. Their flare of youki was much less as they transformed back to bird-form, Sesshomaru noted, watching them climb steeply almost due north. That was not the direction in which Bokuseno stood, but he approved the misdirection. He knew the panthers were close enough to be watching the flight. Even though he could not guess what Bokuseno's real purpose in sending for them was, he knew it made sense to avoid directing the enemy's attention to the real direction of their flight.

It was only later that night, as he watched the stars flickering in the sky dome by themselves, that he wondered if Bokuseno's request had anything to do with Inuyasha.

Of course not. While the dirty, disreputable hanyo clearly had needs, they could hardly be classified 'great.' And what possible treasure might the youngster have obtained (and stupidly lost) that could be considered 'great.'

Ridiculous.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Argh, delayed again! I was just blocking on Rikaru's scene, which I had skipped over during the November marathon. Minor character, true, but he still has his role to play in this story, so I needed to get it done.

Also, I would note that chapter 11 of "Ice and Steel", "War Leader", takes place somewhere just before the last scene in this chapter.

(01/29/2012)


	26. Morning Flights

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**025 - Morning Flights**

Her hut might have been freshly cleaned and purified, but Kikyo found herself unwilling to move back. Given that she was leaving the village the next day, it was simpler to stay with the headman's family. There was enough work to do, preparing for the trip, to excuse not making the move, but that wasn't the real reason.

She didn't want to go back there, while Inuyasha was still missing. For a few precious days, tending him while he recovered from his nearly-fatal injuries, she had learned more about him that she had in the previous half-year. While she had certainly been exposed to his irascible, foul-mouthed side, she had also seen more than hints of his quieter, gentler side, and seen how much he was starting to trust her.

"Ane-sama?"

Kikyo started, and realized that she had sat, staring into nothingness, while the new bow she had been oiling was sitting in her lap. "Kaede?"

The girl came over to sit by her on the stack of futons that served as a daytime bench for Kikyo. "What are you doing with an arrow?" asked Kikyo, noticing what she was holding. It definitely was not one of the shorter arrows that fit the girl's smaller bow. "Shouldn't that be in the quiver?"

Kaede's smirk was self-satisfied. "It will be. I just brought it back. It's the special arrow."

"Special?" Kikyo's eyes widened as she stared at it. "The one I used to seal Inuyasha?"

"The one that got filled with the spiritual power you pulled from Inuyasha's body to save his life? Yep."

"But, I pulled it out of him under Goshinboku … I haven't even thought about it since then."

"I have." Kaede looked at the arrow thoughtfully. "I dreamed about it last night. I knew I should go find it if I could. It still has power, after all. It might still be important."

"Important." Kikyo took another look, invoking her inward senses, and realized that the arrow was just as filled with power as it was the day she had fired it at Inuyasha.

"I bet you could track Inuyasha with this." Kaede gave her a sideways look.

Kikyo winced, and looked away. "You know I can't," she said. "He chose to leave, because he's not safe. I have … I have to respect that decision."

"Even though he'll be human tomorrow night?" Kaede whispered.

She started. "Human?" she mouthed.

Kaede nodded vigorously. "You remember, what I told you, when you came back, and we thought he'd been killed? I saw him. I was with him."

Kikyo took the arrow, and stared at it, feeling the power. There were resonances in that power that she'd never felt with any other arrow, even with one imbued with an enduring sealing spell. Some of the resonances seemed to speak of a different miko; older, harder, grimmer. And some resonances seemed to have a flavor of youki: Inuyasha's youki. She could trace him with this, she realized. Perhaps even create a spell that would tell her how he was doing, if he were normal, or had fallen back into that horrible youkai mode.

She was tempted. Badly tempted. She wanted to know. She wanted him back.

But, she thought of what she was supposed to be doing, starting tomorrow.

"I can't," she whispered, looking away. "We have to go secure Tsubaki's place first. I insisted on going: I can't change now. And … and Inuyasha would flee if he sensed my looking for him."

"But—"

Kikyo made herself look back, though her eyes were starting to brim with tears. "Put it away, Kaede," she said, passing the arrow back. "You don't understand—you didn't see his face, when he said goodbye. He's too haunted by what he became, by what he could do, if he loses control. He won't come back on his own, not until he feels he's safe. If—if I tried to make him—how could I say I love him, and say I wanted what was best for him? It wouldn't be right."

Kaede looked away for a few moments, then finally sighed. "I guess you're right." She eased of the stack. "But, you will take it with you, won't you? I mean, you never know when you might need it."

Kikyo gave her a wan smile. "I will take it with me."

... ... ...

Inuyasha sat up, looked at his hands, and sighed.

Still human.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. At least he did feel better this morning. Not so fuzzy. But definitely hungry, thirsty, and, well—

Standing up, he was pleased to note that his legs were steady, though his muscles were stiff, and complaining. Looking around, he recognized his surroundings. "Um, Bokuseno?"

The nearest wall formed a face. "Inuyasha-sama. You have a question."

"Uh, yeah. Like, where to I go to do, well, you know, the morning stuff? Someplace, uh, private?" He shifted his weight, starting to feel quite uncomfortable, for several reasons. Among other things, he couldn't help think that nothing could really be 'private' around a youkai tree.

"You may deposit your eliminations wherever you wish," replied Bokuseno with an air of indifference. "All of my roots can make use of your waste."

Inuyasha turned red. "I'm not doing it in the open!" he spluttered, having taken a good look around. He was in a clearing at least three of his lengths across, and with at least three trails, and anyone could come along at any time!

Bokuseno sighed. "Mobiles," he said, in a rustling, grumbling tone. Branches creaked, shifting, growing, next to one of the trails. "I am growing a private circle next to the right-most trail from where you stand. Use that, then follow the trail to water you may use for drinking and for cleaning. Cheiriyo insisted on overseeing your meal: I will tell him where he can send the food."

Inuyasha still felt a bit weird about doing certain things anywhere around a self-aware plant, but the tiny, leaf-curtained enclosure was much better than the alternative. A bit emptier than before, he walked briskly down the trail, finding at the end a very tiny pond, with a tiny fountain set in a boulder. Inuyasha stared at both, wondering if any of it was 'natural', or if it were all shaped by the tree. He was beginning to suspect that Bokuseno probably could be counted as a daiyoukai, though one very, very different from his own sire.

A quick sip from the fountain proved the water to be sweet and cool. Inuyasha eyed the pool, then mentally shrugged and began to strip. He was human, and Bokuseno had said he was safe. If the tree were lying, it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference if he had his clothes on or not, so he might as well enjoy what he could. Soap-root plants sprang in joyous abundance along the pool, and a saucer-shaped rock, accompanied by a round stone, was the perfect place the pound the suds from the roots. He soaped himself up, including his short hair, rinsed off with a convenient basket somehow made of leaves, and then waded in. It was surprisingly warm, a bit over waist-deep in the middle, and the base of the pond was thick with water-weeds, not mud. Inuyasha found a convenient place to sit, with the water neck high, and concentrated on the simple pleasure of sitting in warm water. He hadn't done this since—

Oh, no. He wasn't going to think about that recent part of his life until he had to.

Which triggered a thought?

"Hey, jiji," he called out. "Did you somehow keep me from dreaming last night?"

"After the events of yesterday, the healer requested that I do so, if I had such a spell," said the tree, not bothering with a face this time. "It was important that you have a period of peaceful sleep."

"Thanks, jiji." And he was, reflected Inuyasha. He couldn't remember the last night he'd slept without nightmares. Back to—no. Don't think about it.

He concentrated on his current position, moving his arms back and forth through the water, trying to ease the stiffness, feeling more than a bit sore. Had he really insisted on fighting that elk-youkai? Gah: from what he remembered of yesterday, he'd been just a bit crazy. Of course, discovering he was human outside of his regular cycle was probably enough to send any hanyo off. But, the fact of his humanity didn't seem to be bothering him this morning, so why was he so out of it yesterday? Maybe it was the lingering effects of that poison they'd fed him.

Or maybe the old tree had done something to his mind, to keep him calm.

Feh.

Enjoy it while it lasted.

.. … ...

The morning was clear, promising warming temperatures. Kikyo limped down the path leading to the meadow where the tanuki had been staying, Kaede pacing ahead of her. Both carried their bows and wore packs, but Kaede's was distinctly larger. When she had seen the pack at breakfast, Kikyo had frowned, but, after looking at Satsuki, and then Kaede in turn, had given up any thought of protesting. She was not that willing to argue with either of those two obdurate expressions, not, at least, while her right leg was still splinted and bound. She hobbled down the path, clinging to her crutch, while Kaede kept increasing the distance between them, only to pause to allow Kikyo to catch up to her.

Kikyo suspected it was deliberate.

The little brat.

As expected, Miyatsu was already at the tiny, warded graveside, rising up from a final set of prayers for the dead as Kikyo and Kaede came into view. Kikyo felt, again, a half-guilty stab of relief that Miyatsu had taken on that duty: she simply could not pray for Tsubaki's soul. Not while Inuyasha was missing. Not after what she had done to him.

The brown-furred, clothed tanuki was standing next to him, waves of apprehension coming off her rotund figure. "Myatsu-sama, who is that little girl?" she asked. "Is she coming, too? You didn't mention her, you just said the miko!"

The monk gave Kikyo a startled, puzzled look. "Ah, Yukuuku, I'm sur—"

Kaede interrupted. "Good morning, monk, Yukuuku-san. I'm Kaede, Kikyo-sama's younger sister. I'm coming with her to run errands for her. Thank-you very much for being willing to carry us—that's very nice of you."

The masked eyes widened. "Oh!" she said faintly. "I—um—it's-it's—um—my privilege."

Miyatsu gave Kikyo a hard look. She could guess his thought—what was Kaede up to? She didn't know, herself, but she gave the monk a beatific smile, then turned her attention to the tanuki.

"Let me add my own thanks, Yukuuku-san," she said, with a nod of her head. "You are saving me the discomfort of a long horseback ride, and I do appreciate it." She hesitated, then added, "Your mistress and I were enemies. But, I will strive not to speak ill of her in your presence."

The tanuki blinked at her, then bobbed in an awkward bow, her nervousness lessening. "Thank-you, miko-sama. Um, if, ah, should I go ahead and transform?"

"I'm ready, if they are," said Miyatsu. Kikyo and Kaede nodded..

Pulling a leaf out from her kimono and setting it on her forehead, the tanuki popped into a long, fat, vaguely-worm-shaped entity with dark brown fur, green eyes, and a striped tail. Miyatsu and Kaede helped Kikyo pull herself up to the youkai's back. Kaede handed up her pack, then scrambled up herself. But, instead of staying with the two adults at roughly the midpoint, she scrambled forward. "Hi, Yukuuku-san," she said brightly. "Do you mind if I ride up here? And can you talk in this form?"

"Of course I can talk," replied Yukuuku. "You are light. I don't mind where you ride."

"Okay! Thanks! This is going to be fun!"

Miyatsu had settled himself next to Kikyo, Kaede's pack before them, and staff, crutch, and bow placed between them. "Is she acting?" he muttered softly. "She sounds like a little kid."

Kikyo twitched a shoulder. "She is a kid," she noted drily.

"Not that much of a kid. She sounds like what—a five-year-old?"

"So?"

He frowned at her. "She's up to something."

"And that's a problem?" asked Kikyo, suppressing a smile.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked away. Kikyo looked forward, and smiled to herself. Just what Kaede was up to, she didn't know. But, if it kept the monk off-balance, and made the tanuki less uncomfortable about her riders; that was no bad thing.

… … …

Inuyasha felt increasingly nervous as he followed the healer Cheiriyo on an almost-straight-line course that was taking them away from Bokuseno's trunk. "Where are we going?" he finally demanded.

"Ultimately, to find this black pearl of yours. Bokuseno has learned the location of the dark priestess' former habitation, and has summoned youkai to transport us there as quickly as possible."

"Youkai," Inuyasha echoed, with a deepening feeling of apprehension.

"They are allies both of Bokuseno and your late father," said Cheiriyo. "They will not harm you."

That didn't reassure him. They were youkai, he was human, and it was broad daylight. He'd felt safe enough, waking up, but, given the events of the day before, he reckoned that he might simply have worn out his capacity for fear, at least where the tree youkai was concerned. Either that, or the spell or whatever Bokuseno had used on him to keep him from having nightmares had also kept him feeling good, after he woke up. If that was the case, the spell had just decided to wear off.

Sunlight was blazing down onto a small meadow beyond a group of saplings. As they approached the saplings, Inuyasha spotted four other figures, squinting as he tried to make out details against the light. Two were quite tall, with the same lean figure and long, pale hair that his half-brother sported. They were even dressed mostly in white. Inuyasha wondered uneasily if they were relatives of Sesshomaru. Though their capes which did not suggest fur.

The two shorter figures were familiar enough to be recognizable. The taller, with the bushy tail behind her, had to be the kitsune, while the very short person with the too-tall staff had to be Jaken. He swore to himself, begging the kami to not let them be going on this trip with him.

The two tall figures shifted as Cheiriyo stepped out into the sunlight. "You are?" one of them demanded.

The healer bowed. "I am known as Cheiriyo, a healer." Straightening, he turned back and forced Inuyasha forward with a hand on his shoulder. "And this, my lords, is Inuyasha, son of the late Inu no Taisho."

Cold, glittering silver eyes studied him. Inuyasha gritted his teeth and made himself stand still. "This is the hanyo?" asked one of them, surprise and suspicion in his voice. "He appears human."

"Yes," said Cheiriyo. "The seal his sire placed on his taiyoukai blood was broken, and he was overwhelmed by his blood, driven mad. A—potion was given, which has, for now, eliminated his youki and transformed him into a human."

"Disgusting," muttered one of them. "The Inu-no-Taisho's son, reduced to that?"

"The alternative was worse," cut in Cheiriyo. "And we do not know whether the transformation was permanent."

They gave him another long look, and then glanced at each other. "We did agree to Bokuseno's request," one muttered, not nearly softly enough to not be heard, even by human ears.

"Let's just get this over with," sighed the other. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can get the stench out of our feathers."

With quick, jerky nods, they backed out into the clearing, and then turned their backs. Light flashed, and the two transformed into giant, silver-winged hawks. Inuyasha stared, and tried to step back. At least they weren't white dogs, as he'd feared, but youkai hawks? And he was going to ride on the back of one of those nasty snobs? Hell, no!

He didn't get a choice. Cheiriyo pulled him to the nearest, and literally tossed him onto the broad back. Inuyasha scrambled for a hold among the slick feathers, working his way up to the shoulders. "Lay down!" snapped the hawk, as he tried to ease back onto his knees. "Your weight's going to slow us down as it is, without you sticking up in the middle of the slipstream!"

Inuyasha hastily went down to his belly. Moments later, something landed on his back with a yip, then scrambled forward. A kitsune in full-fox form gave him a vulpine grin, then snuggled down against him. He glared at her. "What are you doing here, vixen?" he growled.

She grinned again and yipped, stretching her front paws in front of her. Inuyasha eyed the delicate feet sourly. "And how do you plan to hang out without hands? I ain't holding you."

Unnaturally long, sharply curved claws sprouted from her reddish-brown paws, hooking deftly into several feathers. Akeneka flattened her head between her paws, and squinted her eyes almost shut.

And she was still grinning.

"Showoff," Inuyasha muttered, sulking.

He wished that he at least had his claws back.

Inuyasha wished for that even more fervently moments later, when the silver hawk leaped into the air. It was an extremely powerful jump, nearly causing the human boy to lose his grip right then. He gripped as hard as he could, digging his toes into the hawk's back as best he could. The pull from the jump eased, but then the long, powerful wings swept down, jarring his hold again. Inuyasha clenched his jaws and squeezed shut his eyes, holding on with all of his strength. The hawk felt as if he must being flying only straight up, every downstroke another attack on his hands, which were rapidly growing numb. Hold on hold on hold on. The words repeated themselves over and over in his head, as his world narrowed to that one action, shutting out even the terror that would have consumed him had he opportunity to think.

Hold on!

... ... ...

The ride in the air was much more pleasant than Kikyo had anticipated. The tanuki's broad back was reassuringly supportive. Her hair was rapidly turning into a snarled mass, making her regret that she hadn't thought to braid it, and the wind whipped tears from her eyes, but she rapidly forgot those discomforts in the sheer wonder of being up in the air. She could see so much! It was a sweeping panorama of roads, fields, forests, meadows, rivers, lakes, and looming mountains. And that was in one direction: when she looked east, she could catch the glimmer of the sea.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" said Myatsu, grinning. "Last time, I was mostly concentrating on trying to add strength to my ofuda, and worrying I wouldn't be in time, but I admit, I couldn't help taking looking up a time or to."

"It's amazing," she said. Leaning forward a little bit, she eyed the village showing up on the horizon. She considered, the angle of the sun, and the direction Yukuuku was flying: "That must be Eiji's village—it's a long day's walk in good weather; and we've been traveling less than a candle-mark!"

"Eiji's—it's at a crossroad, right? The innkeeper's name is Hachiro? Has two daughters: the younger has an absolutely beautiful voice. And fills a kimono very nicely."

Kikyo gave him a withering look. "Do you ever think of anything besides women, houshi?"

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed, but his eyes were twinkling. "But, I should ignore the beauty that was placed here to be enjoyed?"

"Humph." Kikyo turned her attention back to the view. Ahead of her, Kaede was sprawled on her belly, apparently still talking with the tanuki, from the snatches of words that came barreling back in the rush of the wind. Kikyo didn't try to listen, opting instead to watch the country rolling by under the tanuki's belly.

The sun was rising to the zenith when the tanuki started descending. "You know, I think that may be the Koshu road," said Miyatsu. "I've been through here several times."

Kikyo didn't answer him, having spotted a building in what looked to be a clearing. There were no gardens or fields around it, and it didn't look to be particularly big. There was no visible path connecting it to the larger road, but the trees were thick enough between road and building to hide one.

It grew closer. Kikyo closed her eyes, reaching out with her miko senses. Almost immediately, she felt a bubble of power surrounding the building. "There's a barrier, tanuki!" she called out.

"Know it, I do!" called back the tanuki, her course starting to curve. "Landing outside! There's an entrance, keyed to me!"

She slowed her descent as she closed on the trees. Despite her claim, Kikyo was starting to wonder if she were going to hit the edge of the barrier. But, Yukuuku didn't, slowing and curving until she could settle down between two trees. "Off off off, humans!" cried the tanuki. "Before I forget and pop back!"

Myatsu quickly scrambled forward and grabbed Kaede's pack, sliding down the tanuki's side to the ground. Letting the pack go, he turned and raised his hands. Kikyo pitched the three pieces of wood to him, then gingerly eased herself around, and slid slowly towards the edge. Myatsu, stretching, caught her by her waist and lowered her the rest of the way, setting her gently to her feet.

He grinned at her, hands still on her waist. "Enjoy the ride, miko-sama? Reason not to destroy all youkai, no?"

"It was an interesting trip," she said evenly. "Now, if you will let go, and hand me my crutch, please?"

Myatsu gave a pretended pout. "Have you no sense of adventure?"

"Less than you, if you do not let go."

He released her with a sigh, and retrieved both her crutch and her bow. She accepted them with a curt nod. Behind her, the tanuki collapsed to her normal form with a loud pop, and then scurried ahead. "This way, humans," she called. "Though," she paused at a sudden thought, "I suppose the barrier may not let you through."

Kikyo snorted. "Even if Tsubaki were still holding that barrier personally, instead of having it tied to a ward-spell, I could walk through it. Her barriers are nothing, compared to mine."

"I suggest that it would be wiser to strengthen the barrier, than remove it," suggested Myatsu. "I can feel power objects from here. The lady presumably had a permanent barrier up for a reason."

Kikyo sighed. "True enough."

Kaede came to her side. "What do you think we'll find?" she asked, her single eye bright in her wind-flushed face. Kikyo reminded herself to locate her comb as soon as they had a safe place to sit down. Kaede's shoulder-length hair was a mad tangle: hers could only be worse.

"Trouble," she said curtly, forcing her mind away from personal matters. "Let's go."

… … …

He could not have said, ultimately, if the youkai beneath him was rising or falling, turning, or flying straight. He could feel neither his fingers nor his toes. The wind deafened him, and he dared not open his eyes. All he was really aware of was the need to keep his hands and feet unmoving, and to keep breathing. His head was frozen or on fire, his lungs were chilled or heated: he could not have said which. All he knew was the world of nightmare, wrapped around two needs: to hang on, and to breathe.

And then, suddenly, the slick back was no longer underneath him. Inuyasha was in the empty, open air, tumbling. His numbed brain tried to shout a warning, but he was too numb to comprehend what was happening. His eyes, blinking open in reflex, saw blue and white, replaced by green, and brown, then back to blue, and white, none of it identifiable. Vaguely, he realized that he was falling from the sky.

As a human...

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry, couldn't resist a cliff-hanger! Here's the next installment. Next chapter will hopefully be up before the end of the weekend! (02/02/2012)


	27. Meetings

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 26 - Meetings**

He was snatched out of the air, whiplashing forward as something grabbed his middle section cruelly hard, forcing out his breath in a single grunt. He gasped, lassitude breaking, leaving confusion. Ears resolved a shriek into raging words, as his eyes resolved colors into grass, a building and bipedal forms staring upward.

"—Think you can destroy us with your stinking barriers? Brother! Break the barrier with your white-wind! Do it! Do it, and kill the stinking humans!

Humans? What? Blinking, Inuyasha tried to focus on the scene below him. There were three figures. One was clearly a monk, one a miko, and one a little girl. The latter two were both holding bows, arrows across the strings, aimed upwards. The miko's bow was steady; the arrow gleaming with assured promise. The girl's bow was wavering. Something was familiar about that girl: her stance, her dark brown hair. The patch hiding one eye—

"Kaede?" he whispered. Awareness flooded in; waking the last numbed corners of his mind.

"Kaede!" he shouted. "Kikyo!"

Kikyo didn't move. Kaede did, snapping her head around, her bow drooping. "You—Inuyasha?" she called up. Her voice was faint, through the barrier and with distance, but he heard her. "Inuyasha?"

"Yes!" he screamed. He wriggled, slamming his fists into the steely talons around his midsection. "Back off, you feather-heads!" he screamed. "Don't attack! Those are my friends down there! Don't attack!"

"Friends? They attacked us with their barrier, boy!" cawed the hawk holding him. "No one attacks the silver hawk clan and lives!"

"No!" he shouted. "It's a mistake! Back off and let me down! Listen to me!"

"Listen to you, a hanyo?"

"What about the Inu-no-Taisho's son?" Inuyasha shouted in desperation. "Did you ally with the Inu-no-Taisho or not? If you did, then you know he didn't hate humans, he protected them! Let me down and let me talk to them! I know the miko! I know her!"

Silence, save for the buffeting wind.

And then, he was rising higher. He had a glimpse of Kikyo starting to lower her bow, and then all he could see were rapidly-approaching trees.

Light blinded him, and then he was falling. He landed painfully on his feet and toppled, grimacing at the pain lashing up his feet and legs. Blinking, as his vision cleared, he saw the two silver hawks, now in their human forms, towering over him, their narrow, chiseled faces alive with dislike.

"For the memory of your sire," said the one, with black trim on his robes, "we will refrain from attacking first."

"But one arrow aimed at us," said the other, blue-trimmed, "and we will forget your father's peculiar habits and destroy those humans without mercy."

A pair of hands pulled him to his feet, then steadied him against a body when he flinched at the pain. "My lords," said the quiet, calm tenor of the youkai healer, "Forgive my impertinence, but before going further under the lash of assumed insult, please consider that the miko is apparently the last holder of the Shikon no Tama. The lady Kikyo is reputed the be the most powerful miko of her time: possibly the strongest since Midoriko herself."

Acutely aware that he was human, Inuyasha bit back the snicker as he saw the uncertainty and even apprehension on the their faces as the avians glanced at each other. If the hawks were afraid of Kikyo's power? That was certainly all right with him! It would be downright satisfying, to see Kikyo take the feather-heads out.

Though not as satisfying as slicing off their wings with his own claws.

"Shall we go speak with the miko?" murmured Cheiriyo,

Inuyasha started to turn, and then staggered as pain lanced up his feet. The healer caught him. "Should I carry you?" he murmured.

Be carried like an invalid? Inuyasha gritted his teeth and made himself straighten up and step firmly, pulling away from Cheiriyo's support. He might only be human, but damn if he were going to let himself whine and whimper and be carried around, just because of a little fall!

He saw Kikyo limping towards him, her bow and arrow gripped in her left hand, while her right hand clung to the supporting staff. Inuyasha stared at her, heart lurching to see her moving so clumsily. Just how long did it take humans to heal bones? If only he could get back to his usual form! He wanted to hold her, and carry her wherever she needed, so she never had to put a foot on the ground, until that clumsy arrangement around her leg could be removed!

She stopped just short of a smoothed stick marked with characters. Behind her, he saw Miyatsu and Kaede flanking her, the latter wide-eyed, the monk looking hard-eyed and wary, ofuda gripped tightly in one hand. He didn't need the touch on his arm to stop several paces away.

Her eyes moved up and down, as her expression shifted. "You're—Inuyasha?" she whispered, staring at the top of his head. "But—you're—human…"

He felt a sudden flash of anger and resentment. "Yeah, so what?" he snarled. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

… … …

Kikyo tried not to wince at the angry, bitter retort. That was pure Inuyasha, even if the voice were slighter, less resonant than she remembered. She looked him over again, still feeling a sense of disbelief. The young man was dressed in the familiar fire-rat robes, and his feet were bare. But, he had human ears, not the triangular dog ears. His eyes were dark. And his hair was black and short, tangled into a wild fury. And she could sense no youki in his aura. This person before her was human.

Human.

It hit her, then. This was what she had asked for Inuyasha to become, what she had sought to achieve with the Shikon no Tama. She looked him over again. A young human man, tensed and angry, hands fisted at his sides. A man trying to hide his pain, she thought, remembering seeing the hawk youkai dropping him from over a human height, remembering how he had gone to his knees, and how the slender, gilt-haired youkai next to him had lifted him to his feet.

Kikyo tried to set that aside, feeling her sense of unease, and wondering why she did. Wasn't this what she had wanted? A human Inuyasha, with whom she could leave behind her role as a miko, becoming a normal woman, with a normal husband. But, why, looking at him, in human form, did she feel—uncomfortable? Why did he look almost—wrong? Shrunken? Why—?

She smacked herself mentally, chiding herself for letting herself be distracted. The angry, powerful hawk youkai were the real and immediate issue. She and Miyatsu, between them, could probably take them both out, but from the strength in their auras, she knew it would be a closer match than she wanted to attempt.

She schooled her expression back to impassivity. "I am glad to see you, Inuyasha," she said neutrally. "May I ask who your acquaintances are?"

His discomfort was obvious, even without the ears to signal his reactions. "Uh, the guy next to me goes by Cheiriyo. Says he's a healer. Elk-youkai. Dunno the hawks' names, friends, or something of my old man; flew us from the youkai forest. The kitsune is Akeneka. And the green toad with the staff is Jaken. Usually hangs around my half-brother, dunno why."

Inuyasha had a half-brother? Kikyo kept her surprise behind her face. "And you are here, why?"

He looked even more uncomfortable. "I'm, uh, I'm here to find something. Something I, I lost." His shoulders hunched, and he looked away.

She saw the elk-youkai touch the human's shoulder. He looked at her. "Miko-sama?"

The rising question in his voice made her realize that the introductions had gone only one way. "I am Kikyo," she offered.

The youkai—Cheiriyo, she reminded herself-gave a slight bow. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Kikyo-sama. As the last holder of the Shikon no Tama, your name is well-known among youkai."

She blinked, taken aback. "It is?"

His smile was impish. "I believe the awareness of your power dampened the temptation of the jewel for many otherwise ambitious youkai." His smile faded. "There will always be many who hate you as well as fear you for what you are, and for your ability to defend yourself and the jewel. But, for myself, I consider it an honor to meet with you, and I wish only peace between us."

She blinked again, and considered his aura. It was youki, which in and of itself, gave it a faint sense of menace to any sensitive human. But, there was no air of violence or predatory being about him, and she sensed that his words were truthful. She dipped her head in a nod. "Peace for peace, Cheiriyo-san. I have killed enough youkai, while I defended the jewel; it would delight me never again to draw the bow with a sacred arrow across its string."

He bowed again. "To desire peace with all is good." Straightening, he continued."I believe that you know that Inuyasha's youkai blood is not under control?"

She nodded. "Yes. But, I do not know why he is human now?"

Inuyasha tensed a bit more, she noticed, but he was still looking away.

"He is human now, because I gave him a potion which destroyed his youki." Cheiriyo gave his head a backward toss towards the youkai behind him. "There was tragedy, before Inuyasha-sama's youkai could be subdued: the vixen Akeneka stands witness for her clan, to learn whether Inuyasha-sama can find a way to control his youkai blood—if it returns. The clan of the silver hawks has long ties of alliance with Inuyasha's great sire, and also with the tree who also succored Inuyasha. Thus, these two were requested to provide swift transportation. Their honor is such that if truce is offered, for the sake of the old alliances, they will accept and hold to it."

Kikyo felt rather adrift. Youkai who spoke of truces, peace, and honor? She had assumed all the good parts of Inuyasha's nature stemmed solely from his human side. Was she wrong?

She reminded herself that she had more pressing considerations. "I will offer truce to the noble silver hawks," she said, raising her voice, pretending that she was dealing with temperamental nobility. "I will not raise my bow to attack, nor allow those with me to raise their weapons, physical or reiki, except in self-defense. Will the noble lords also agree to truce, to not raise weapons or youki for attack, but for self-defense only?"

The two hawks glanced at each other, and then the red-trimmed avian responded with a curt nod. "We accept a truce. However, we stipulate this: that we will not step inside your barrier, or allow any reiki spell near us."

"That is acceptable, my lords," she replied with a deeper nod. "My comrade and I had just restored this barrier, which was raised initially by the black priestess who lived here, to protect her spells and her secrets. We had not detected the component of the barrier spell which attacked youki: we will seek to remove that aspect."

"That is acceptable," confirmed the hawk. "Cheiriyo-healer, you were given the means to summon us. We will return when you call."

They jumped up, transforming in midair. Avoiding the barrier, they made one of their almost vertical ascents, and were quickly lost to view.

Snobby beasts, Kikyo thought crossly, before returning her attention to the healer youkai. "What of Akeneka-san and Jaken-san? Do they also agree to a truce?"

The fox blurred and transformed to a small, but human-looking woman, albeit equipped with tail, and bare fox-feet. "I agree to truce, miko-sama."

"But, I do not!" loudly proclaimed the green-skinned imp. "I am Jaken, vassal of the great and terrible Sesshomaru, lord of the western lands! And I agree to no truce with humans!"

"Then you will stay outside the barrier as well, Jaken," said the healer quickly. "And before you say more, perhaps you should consider the impact your actions have on Inuyasha's decision?"

"Pah! As a human, he has no decision to make!"

"And if his youkai blood returns?"

The imp said nothing, looking away. Cheiriyo met Kikyo's gaze, and shrugged.

"The staff is quite powerful, my lady," he said quietly, "so I recommend letting him stay outside. Although I suspect he is more bluff than threat."

Kikyo nodded, though she wanted very much to know just what was going on with Inuyasha and the youkai. "I will not require any of you to come inside the barrier," she said. "And I should make my own introductions." She had felt her sister approach and known the monk was observing.

"This is my sister, Kaede," she said, flicking a hand behind her. "The monk is called Miyatsu; without his help, the dark priestess Tsubaki would not have been defeated." She noticed Inuyasha's hands clench at the name, though there was no other reaction. "There is also a tanuki who served Tsubaki: Yukuuku went to her dwelling place when we arrived."

Cheiriyo nodded understanding.

"We have only been here a little while," she said. "We came here, out of concern that the priestess Tsubaki might have left behind spells dangerous to either mortal or youkai—she was greedy for power, and sought power from outside herself, youki as well as reiki. If you do not object to entering, we can sit down and discuss our missions, and perhaps determine if one group can help the other." She managed a smile. "If only for Inuyasha's sake."

The healer bowed again. "Our purpose is to find the object that Inuyasha-sama lost while he was a captive. But, I am also willing to assist in neutralizing the artifacts that this black priestess created. She sough to destroy the son of my friend, and for that alone, I will help you."

… … …

Kaede had felt startled to recognize the black-haired man as Inuyasha, feeling of surge of both happiness and dismay. He was back! But he was human!

She listened and watched closely as her sister spoke with the youkai healer. The snooty hawks were quickly dismissed as unlikable. She also decided that she probably didn't like the noticeably-charming 'healer,' since he admitted that he was the cause of Inuyasha's current status of human. She knew that wasn't fair: she'd heard about Inuyasha's attack on Tsubaki and near-attack on the villagers, and Kikyo had told her why he had left. But, there was currently an air of discomfort and unhappiness about her pretend 'older brother', and she wasn't about to let that continue!

So, as Cheiriyo and Inuyasha stepped through the entrance Kikyo created, Kaede shouldered her bow and marched forward. "Inuyasha-kun!" she said, grinning brightly and—she knew—a bit inanely. "I'm so glad you're back! Why don't we go see what Satsuki-san packed, and you can tell me everything you've been doing! You know Kikyo—she and Miyatsu and this Cheiriyo will be discussing every little detail of who's going to do what around here, and you'll be bored silly!" She boldly grabbed his hand. "The packs are still outside: we'll just sit down and enjoy the sun!"

"May I come, too?" A hesitant, feminine voice asked.

Kaede looked around and closely considered the vixen. The kitsune was, Kaede couldn't help noticing with just a tinge of jealousy, quite pretty with her dark-red hair, pointed chin, and purple eyes. She knew that she didn't want company, but, wanting to be fair, flicked a glance at Inuyasha's face. One glimpse of his rigid non-expression told her all she needed. Acutely aware of the fact that her sister did not need her making any trouble, Kaede kept up the pose she'd been wearing most of the day so far. "Gee, I'm really sorry, um…"

"Akeneka," said the kitsune with a slight smile.

"Akeneka. Me and Inuyasha want some time alone, okay? We're good friends! I don't mind if we talk later though—I didn't know kitsunes could be so pretty!"

The vixen smiled, relaxing. From Kikyo's other side, Miyatsu's warm, mellow baritone spoke up. "If Inuyasha-san and Kaede-chan do not require your presence, perhaps you will accept my humble escort, lady Akeneka? Have you attended the exams at the kitsune inn? I must say, you are considerably more beautiful, than any of the female shapes the kitsune there achieved."

The kitsune's ears almost visibly twitched, and the eagerness in her face and her voice were unmistakable. "You've been at the inn? During the exams?"

"To my detriment, I fear," he chuckled. "But, if you're willing to listen to what kind of fool a monk can be, I'm sure Kikyo-sama and Cheiriyo-sama are more than capable of determining how to organize our efforts, without our interruptions."

Kikyo's sigh was quite audible. "Do as you wish, houshi-sama," she said with only a tinge of annoyance. "Cheiriyo-san?"

"Akeneka is free to do as she will, as long as she recognizes that this area may be dangerous," said the youkai. "Inuyasha-sama, I agree with your young friend, that you should go sit down somewhere and enjoy the warmth. The hawks gave little consideration to the comfort of any of their passengers, but your current human state made you vulnerable to the chill."

Well! Perhaps she could think better of monk and youkai healer, after all! She returned her attention to the silent Inuyasha. "Come on, Inuyasha," she said, tugging his hand gently. "I know I'm starving!"

… … ...

Kaede chattered about her trip on top of the tanuki. Inuyasha felt a little odd, but also a bit comforted. Her chatter felt like a distraction, and he noticed that she kept flicking swift glances at him with her one eye. Distraction he could use, for his feet were hurting horribly, and he was suspected the drop had broken several bones. It was all he could to not to limp, and he promised himself that if—no, when—he returned to his hanyo form, he was going to hunt out that particular silver hawk, and break his feet in turn.

He was also very glad that Kaede didn't suggest going inside the building, or even sitting on the porch. As she dug through the pack, now talking away about how some of the women had been throwing themselves at the monk, Inuyasha was able gingerly to lower himself to the ground, his back to the hut. He kept his eyes fixed on his legs, not at all willing to view the grassy meadow where Tsubaki and her puppet had made him spend so much time cavorting like a four-legged dog.

Sweat broke out on his forehead as the memories surged. The pain of jumping down from the porch to land on his mutilated hands; the helpless terror of never knowing whether the puppet would caress him or claw him with her envenomed claws; the humiliation of pretending to be a puppy, chasing illusionary butterflies, just to hope to avoid a moment of torture—

"Inuyasha?" Small hands gripped his bigger one: with an effort, Inuyasha turned his head. Kaede looked at him somberly and with open concern, looking years older than she had sounded moments before. "It was awful, wasn't it? What Tsubaki did to you."

"I was … weak," he whispered.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered fiercely. "Tsubaki was only slightly less powerful than Kikyo ane-sama, and nasty even when she pretended to be nice. You were dying when she kidnapped you: it's not your fault. Do you know what Tsubaki did to me?"

Inuyasha shook his head, eyes widening in alarm. "She hurt you?"

Kaede shook her head. "Not physically. She used a spell to make me think I saw a youkai rip you apart and eat you up inside the hut. And real blood was all over the hut. It was—awful."

Inuyasha growled. "Bitch. If she weren't dead already—"

"I know." Kaede snuggled closer. "And I'm glad she's dead—though everyone hates my saying that."

The image of Tsubaki's shattered body and memory of his reaction flashed through Inuyasha's memory. He swallowed against the bile of his throat, struggling for self-control. Damn it, he agreed with the kid. Tsubaki deserved death, and why should he regret being her murderer! But—

"It bothers you," she observed, peering up at him. "Why?"

Drawing a deep breath, Inuyasha forced his gaze back to his feet. "It's not that I killed her," he was finally able to reply. "It's ... the way I killed her, and what I felt. It—that—that monster—it—relished killing her; it felt so wonderful. It—it would have killed all the villagers, if Kikyo hadn't stopped it. Me." He pulled his hand away, feeling that a little girl shouldn't be touching him, trusting him. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," she said firmly, reaching to grab his hand, resisting his effort to pull free. "You've saved me twice, Inuyasha. You're a good person. I know you are."

He looked back, startled at her phrasing and tone of voice. She met his gaze squarely, with no sign of the young chatterer of before. Inuyasha felt as if he were meeting the gaze of someone older than either of them. Ridiculous. And yet—

"You—trust me," he whispered, just a bit awed.

"Of course, I do," she replied promptly. "Ani-nichan."

His throat threatened to close, and tears threatened to emerge. "Thank-you," he managed to finally whisper. "But ... if I can't find a way to keep my blood bound, I—it will take over again. It-it already has. l—it could kill you, Kaede." He looked away again. "It's already killed again."

"That's why you're here?" She asked, not sounding the least bit fazed. His shoulders tightened.

"Yeah. I—I lost something, while I was here. Something my father used, to make a seal on my youkai blood. He ... he apparently could see possible futures, so he knew..."

"Sounds like a story. Tell me?"

He eyed her again, and saw the younger self again. She gave him an impish smile, and handed over two rice balls, and then a flask of water. "Please?"

He really had no defense against a little girls' 'please.'

* * *

**Author's Note: **Another chapter down, and more to go. Thanks to everyone who's keeping up on this story! Hopefully, another chapter next weekend! (02/05/2012)


	28. Conversations

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 27: Conversations**

The youkai healer was more charming than she had imagined a youkai could be. He listened to her explanation for their presence, and then quite graphically, but with a constant sense of sympathy for the hanyo, described the actions of the unbound youkai, the steps Bokuseno and himself had taken to subdue him, and an unstinting revelation of what the young human had told them about his captivity.

Discipline kept the tears from her eyes. "I knew he'd been badly hurt, when we met again," she said. "He told me a little bit—about the puppet made in my image, and I saw myself some of what Tsubaki did to make him act and look like a dog. But, I had no idea there was an actual seal on his blood. I thought the kotodama I spelled onto him would be enough, but from what you've said..."

"Kotodama?"

She explained briefly. "Ah, that's why it won't come off. We knew it was a human spell, but Inuyasha didn't say anything about it, and I didn't want to press him." The expression on his face was thoughtful. "You care about him? Even though he is a hanyo?"

Kikyo flushed a little, and looked away. "Yes."

"That is good," he said, to her utter shock. "So few are willing to accept hanyo as they are, as if they are responsible for their origins."

She tried not to wince at his phrase. "I did not know any youkai would accept a hanyo."

His smile was oddly wry. "If a youkai can fall in love with a ningen, then surely youkai can also accept the result of that love."

"But, most don't."

"True."

She decided to change the subject. "So, how can we work together? Do you have any idea where this pearl might be?"

"He thinks he lost it near the river, when he was trying to escape. Akeneka has agreed to try and sniff it out, though there may not be much she can find. If that fails, then we will have to search by sight. Unless, you would happen to have a spell that might help?"

"Set spells are not my strength," she replied. "Miyatsu might have something—his skills are different from my own."

The youkai nodded. "That is good. Now, how may we help with your goals? There is considerable jyaki around."

"Our intent is to dismantle any traps and spells we find, and do a thorough purification."

The youkai tilted his head, eyes narrowing in thought. "This 'Tsubaki' was entirely human?"

"Human, yes, but she was binding youkai to her, and was apparently trying to steal Inuyasha's youki for her own use."

"Binding..." he murmured. "I wonder how she attracted youki to her."

Kikyo shrugged. "I don't know. I was always more interested in repelling youkai."

"There are reiki spells for that?"

She nodded. "Not that they worked very well, with the Shikon no Tama around."

"I imagine not." Kikyo studied him as he went silent, apparently thinking, though it was hard to decipher his expression, with those opaque, pupil-less eyes. "If her spells are still active, I may be able to sense their effect on youkai kind. That should make it easier to locate the spells and determine their purpose, should it not?"

"Yes, it would. Doing that would not endanger you?"

He gave her a smile. "I am no taiyoukai, but I have some small core of strength. As long as we are all careful, your task should be doable."

There was something charming about the elk youkai, and Kikyo found herself smiling back. "Have you ever worked with humans before?"

"Eh, not really," he replied, his aura shifting subtly, but in a way she couldn't decipher. "I have some knowledge of healing that applies to your kind; however. Perhaps you would accept my offer to examine your leg, and determine if I may assist its healing?"

... ... ...

Akeneka was far prettier than the 'maidens' at the kitsune inn who had tended to 'cuteness', rather than beauty. His experience had somewhat armored him against feminine wiles that were displayed when there was a general sense of youkai aura. But, her sheer beauty, had it was without her obvious youkai traits and unhuman coloring, might well have been his downfall.

He described his experience at the kitsune inn, keeping his tone light, and skipping what he had done to the youkai when he'd realized the extent of the trickery. She sighed when he finished, her expression wistful.

"I've been training for years, to be good enough to go test myself at the exams," she said. "But Rikaru still says I'm still not good enough, to get even the lowest score."

"Rikaru?"

"My—sensei. Rikaru Two-Tails." Miyatsu caught her hesitation, but her mood changed abruptly, too quickly for him to insert a question. "That hanyo almost killed him! And then, they wouldn't let me even talk to him!"

"Ah?"

She described the woody barrier, and the river youkai, and her failure to get closer to the unconscious kitsune. Miyatsu nodded sympathetically. "Attempting magic you don't have the skill to control is dangerous to youkai and human alike, it seems," he commented. "And even normal fire is dangerous—how much more so is youki-fire?"

"But, I'm kitsune!" she protested. "Kitsune-bi doesn't harm me!"

"Even the full force of a kitsune more powerful than yourself?"

She opened her mouth to disagree, then closed it, looking away. Miyatsu decided to change the subject. "Most of the kitsune who tried their tricks on me appeared to be male, but I assume there are females who take the exam." She nodded silently, still looking away. "Once I was able to discern their auras, most of them seemed quite young, both in age and power. Indeed, I would say that your aura feels stronger and more mature than theirs."

She whipped her head back, purple eyes wide. "Really?"

"Definitely," he said with a smile. "I can't speak to your skill in disguises and other tricks, but if your skills match your strength, I suspect you would do well."

The young kitsune's expression glowed. "I haven't practiced disguises much, but I do have several shapes. Look!" She dropped into her pure fox form, yipped, sprang up and converted to her owl form. Rowing her wings, she aimed her beak at the sky and swept upwards. Gaining height, she rolled, dove, then pulled out at the last moment with a flurry of wing beats and youki. Feet less than two hands pans from the ground, she shimmered and returned to her original form, landing daintily. Miyatsu applauded.

"Very nice," he said. "But, can you mimic humans?"

Akeneka frowned a little. "I've never met humans before today. But, I can try..." Frowning, she stared hard at the monk, and slowly circled him. Returning to her original position, she stared at him a moment longer, then narrowed her eyes. With a 'pop', a smaller version of Miyatsu stood in her place. Now, it was the monk's turn to circle her. "Not bad for a first try," he said blandly. "However, the hat should come off, and always remember..."

She yelped and jumped as something tugged at her posterior. Popping back to her usual form, she spun and glared at the monk who was grinning.

"...That humans don't have tails," he finished, eyes twinkling.

"You pulled my tail!"

"So I did."

"But, you're human!"

"And you think that humans don't tease, or prank?"

"Oh." Akeneka shrank in on herself, mortified.

Miyatsu's smile was kind. "I apologize, lady fox. I'm sure you'll perfect your shapes with a bit of practice. Although..." His gaze was thoughtful, "... I'd suggest not trying to mimic Kikyo, at least within her view. She's a lovely person, and a very strong miko, but she's had precious little opportunity to develop a sense of humor."

Akeneka nodded. "Not Inuyasha-sama, either. He's—scary."

"He is that. Well, I think you would do well at the inn. And I might even have a few suggestions, if you don't mind."

"I'd love to hear them," she said, her sparkle returning. "Please?"

... ... ...

Jaken sat and glared at the beings beyond the barrier. It was disgusting, to see the youkai talking with the humans, as if they were equals. Pah! Bad enough to have to sit around waiting to see whether the half-blood was going to regain the tainted glory of his youkai half. But, to do it in the presence of these short-lived mortals, two of which were youkai-killers, on top of that!

He held tightly to his staff, ready to use it, if he saw any hint of treachery. Maybe the staff's fire could get through that barrier, and maybe it couldn't, but what mattered was making sure they knew that he wasn't going to be either their tamed pet, or dead!

"Well, look who's being sulky," said a voice from above him. "Don't trust humans, do you?"

Jaken jerked his head up, his protuberant eyes locating the tiny source of that derision. "Myoga," he replied. "So what are you doing out here, stupid flea?"

"I was flung free from Akeneka's back when Ginen decided to get rid of his passengers," said the flea, looking down from his perch on the female head of the staff. "When I recovered my wits, I thought I caught a scent of my master's blood, and went to investigate."

Jaken 'humphed.' "So what if the stinking hanyo spilled some more blood? Why you want to keep burying your snout in his hide, makes me wonder what kind of youkai you are,"

"His blood is of superlative strength and exquisite taste," retorted Myoga. The power and passion of the Inu no Taisho's blood, mingled with the tang of human mortality, is a feast you cannot begin to imagine,"

"As if I'd want to," said the toad in turn. "At least, I don't serve a dirty half-blood who's half-crazy on his best days."

"Inuyasha-sama is not crazy!" Myoga quivered with anger. "He is an honest, passionate, and fearless blend of the best of both his parents, and I am proud to call him my master!"

"Hah! You speak of blood and parentage? No one bests Sesshomaru-sama in that field! Who else will one day be known for exceeding the prowess of his great sire? Who else will have a reputation that will eclipse the Inu no Taisho himself? Who will have all the world bending and quaking at his feet? Who will dominate everything he looks upon?"

"Who will be hated as much as he is feared?" Myoga retorted. "Who will end up being dragged down from his lofty heights by treachery and stealth, because he cannot find one bit of compassion within that ice heart of his?"

"Who needs compassion, flea? Strength is all my master needs! My master will be striding through the clouds, lording over all the lands, centuries after your pathetic excuse of a master is dead, buried and forgotten!"

"Dead and forgotten? Hah! And what do you know of life and memory? Do you really think Sesshomaru-sama will remember you, when he masters his ultimate strength? Do you think he cares whether you live or die?"

Jaken quivered in rage. "I am loyal to Sesshomaru-sama! He will reward me greatly, when he builds his domain! I will be high in his council! High!"

"The lord who steps on you whenever you fail to get out of the way, will reward you?" sneered the flea. "He will raise up one he walks upon?"

"He just steps on me because I deserve it! It's my duty to serve him, to stay out of his path!"

"Say that, as if you mean it, beak-mouth."

Jaken leapt to his feet, the staff shaking under his grip. "Why you—you—"

"Um... excuse me, uh, who are you?"

The green youkai whipped around, to find himself facing a somewhat plump, furred youkai. "I am Jaken, servant of the great and powerful Sesshomaru-sama! And who are you, tanuki?"

She looked properly intimidated. "I—I'm just Yukuukuu. I used to serve the lady Tsubaki who lived here. She-she died."

"Of course, she died! She was a human, wasn't she?"

"She was going to stay young and beautiful forever, she said!" Yukuukuu retorted, tightening the grip on her basket. "And she would have, if it weren't for that horrible hanyo!"

"Hanyo?" Myoga's voice abruptly came from above Jaken's head. Jaken rolled his eyes up, trying to locate the flea. "You mean Inuyasha-sama? The hanyo she was trying to torture and kill?"

The tanuki leaned forward. Jaken leaned back, pawing at the ties of his hat.

"Why shouldn't she try to take his youki for her own?" asked the tanuki. "He destroyed the Shikon no Tama, which my mistress needed to transform herself. He was evil, and had to be punished."

Jaken froze, his mouth dropping open.

"The Shikon no Tama was a cursed, evil thing that caused nothing but torment," said Myoga.

Jaken got his mouth to work. "You—your mistress tried to-to destroy Inuyasha?" he spluttered, his hands still fastened about his hat. "Was she an utter fool? My lord Sesshomaru regards the hanyo as his rightful prey—he would destroy utterly anyone who managed to kill Inuyasha!"

"My mistress would have been powerful, if not for that hanyo!" cried Yukuukuu. "I would kill him myself, if I could!"

Jaken stared at her, utterly astounded by the ridiculous statement. Then, he giggled. Then snorted. Then began to laugh. And laugh. He laughed so hard, he fell onto his back, kicking his feet in a paroxysm of mirth. Oh, it was so funny! The funniest thing in months! No, years!

A tanuki, trying to take Sesshomaru-sama's prey?

… … ...

Yukuukuu glowered at the beak-mouthed youkai, her ears flat "It's not funny!" she shrilled.

Something barely noticeable touched down on her head-scarf. "Sshh, tanuki-chan," said the flea. "Ignore Jaken: he puts on airs because Sesshomaru-sama permits him to tag along behind him. I'm Myoga, by the way. May I ask why you are here? You realize that there are humans here, as well as youkai?"

Yukuukuu sighed, her ears sagging. "I know. I brought them here. I-I really didn't want to, but Miyatsu-sama is ... um ... well, he said I should."

"Miyatsu-sama?"

"A monk. He ... he told me about Tsubaki-sama's death, and, and brought me to where her ashes were buried, so I could pray for her. There's a miko, too, and her little sister. Her sister is nice."

"And why did they want to come here?"

She explained their concern about the spells, skirting the still giggling Jaken. "You're heading towards a barrier," said Myoga.

"Of course. Mistress needed to keep the unwanted youkai out. But, she set the barrier to pass me through."

"Um, interesting. I shall look forward to talking to you later."

Yukuukuu hesitated, looked around for the vanished flea, then shrugged and walked through the barrier.

… … …

The two humans and two youkai converged on the house. Kaede and Inuyasha stopped talking when they saw the others approach. Kikyo eyed the evidence, and raised an eyebrow at her sister. "Just how much did you two eat?"

Kaede gave an unrepentant shrug. "Why? We were hungry! We didn't eat all of it."

Kikyo sighed, and hobbled towards the porch. "Cheiriyo-san, Akeneka-san, you're welcome to share what we have."

"That is unnecessary, but thank-you," said Cheiriyo. "I will graze later."

Inuyasha kept his head down as the others gathered, not at all wanting to be sociable. Kaede scrambled up from her position next to him and went to the packs, unloading the rest of the food. He listened to Kikyo's halting, limping steps, and wished that he could help her. He hadn't liked her look earlier—pale and drawn, and having clearly lost weight. But, how could he? He didn't have any right to be with her. If he turned back; if he lost control...

A shadow cut off the sun, and then Cheiriyo was squatting next to him, looking at him intently with those opaque, blue eyes. Inuyasha met his gaze briefly, then looked away. "What do you want?" he asked, sullenly. "I'm fine."

"I will determine that, Inuyasha-sama." The youkai leaned closer, sniffing, then reached over and placed his hand against the boy's jaw and throat. Inuyasha tensed, but said nothing. After a moment, Cheiriyo moved down and started stroking Inuyasha's aching feet. "Hmm... two bones in the left foot cracked ... three—no, four cracked in the right. Inuyasha-sama, you should stay off your feet until they heal."

"I'm not an invalid!"

Cheiriyo gave Inuyasha a level look. "Inuyasha-sama, if you turn back to hanyo, you may run on as many cracked or broken bones as you desire: I know they will heal. But, if you do not want to chance the possibility of being a lame human, then stay off your feet until I or a human healer says otherwise."

Inuyasha looked away, digging his hands into his arms underneath the cover of his fire rat robe. The healer waited a moment, and then patted his leg before standing up.

"I'm going to go search for some herbs," the healer said. "Houshi, miko, could one of you allow me through the barrier? I will also need a fire, and some water heated."

"Actually, I think we should drop the barrier, but leave it so we can trigger it. What do you think, Kikyo?"

Inuyasha tried to tune them out. He remembered how warm, and contented he had felt while in that pond that morning, and wished he had never left it. He wished he could crawl into a shell and never be seen again. He was cold, cold, cold. He didn't want to be here. He was cold, and the sun couldn't warm him. Not where it mattered. He just wanted to go away. He just wanted not to be.

"Hey." Kaede was back, holding something in her hand. "Want me to comb out your hair?"

Inuyasha looked up and blinked at her. "Comb?"

She displayed the comb in her had. "I'll comb yours, and you comb mine. Usually, Kikyo and I will comb each other's hair, but she's busy eating. And I'll bet you'll feel better: I always do."

He gave her a skeptical look, but, nodded. But, before he could offer to do hers first, she slipped behind him. He tightened his arm grip as the comb touched his scalp, and immediately hit a snag. "Boy, this is really tangled. When did you last comb it?"

Not since it was cut, he thought. "Days," he responded curtly. He remembered how it had looked in the watery reflection: he had combed his fingers through his hair, he recalled, but he hadn't been about to ask for any favors from any of the youkai about him.

The tree probably didn't even know what a 'comb' was, and youkai probably didn't need combs. He hadn't noticed any snarls in Cheiriyo's hair just now, had he?

He held himself tense at first, trying not to remember the pats on the head that had been followed by claws in his neck or back. But, the sensation of the comb's teeth against his scalp, moving erratically, wriggling gently through snarls, was distinctly different from the puppet's touching. Kaede said nothing, but she was a warm, non-threatening presence behind his back. Little by little, he relaxed, even as the comb slid through more of his hair without pulling.

"There." She was next to him, smiling. "Much better." She held the comb out. He pulled his hands out of his sleeves and took it. "My turn." She plopped down against his leg, back to him.

Inuyasha eyed her for a few moments, feeling somewhat intimidated. Setting the comb in his lap, he reached hesitantly for the leather thong holding her hair back in a tail. He worked out the knot, pulling it free. Picking up the comb, he gingerly started to work the comb through her hair.

It seemed easier than he expected, even familiar. He frowned as he worked, trying to remember. The feeling wasn't bad. In fact, it felt good. Happy. Happy—

He froze, remembering. Length on shining length of black; tiny clawed hands combing, combing, using fingers, or a finely carved, filigreed comb.

"Inuyasha?"

He made himself breathe. "Just—just a memory," he whispered. "I—I just remembered, combing Mama's hair. It was so long, and soft... it was a long time ago."

"And, I bet, she combed yours."

"Yes."

"Do you remember much about your mama?"

Inuyasha started combing again. "Some."

Kaede sighed. "I don't remember hardly anything about my mama. Kikyo-ane-sama was already at the temple: father didn't want to raise me, so he sent me to her. We've been together ever since."

He felt a surge of sympathy and at the same moment, envy. "At least your sister wanted you."

"Huh?"

Inuyasha swore at himself for saying anything. "N-nothing."

There was a brief silence. "Okay."

He felt almost shamed by her ready acceptance; ashamed that he didn't want to talk about his half-brother, and the thorough going bastard that Sesshomaru was to his younger sib. Inuyasha stared at the hair under his fingers, willing himself to not think about anything other than the task at hand. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but the comb, and the hair…

… … …

Kikyo leaned a shoulder against a post as Kaede knelt behind her with the comb. She kept her eyes on Inuyasha who was sitting in the grass with his head down, and his arms wrapped around his legs. She wished she could go to him, put her arms around him, tell him that everything would be all right. But, how could she? Even if he didn't flinch away from her touch—which he surely would—how could she convince him, when she wasn't sure herself? When no one knew whether he would ever be a hanyo again? When no one knew that if he did turn back to hanyo, if there were any way to repair the broken 'seal' on his youkai blood? When no one knew when, or if, he might turn into that horrifying monster again? When no one knew, if he transformed, if they didn't have to kill him, to stop him?

A door slid aside, and steps came up behind her. She straightened. The youkai healer stepped down from the porch, then turned and offered her a cup. "Herbs for the pain, and bone-healing, miko-sama," he said. "I have used these before, on human kind."

She took it, and sniffed. Several herbs she recognized; several she didn't. Meeting the blue eyes, Kikyo considered the youkai with all of her senses. She sensed only goodwill from him.

"The other cup?" she asked, noticing the second in his other hand.

A slight smile twitched the corners of his mouth. "For Inuyasha-sama, if I can persuade him to take it."

"Give it to me," said Kaede from behind her. "He won't argue with me."

Cheiriyo nodded gravely. "I give you my thanks," he said as she jumped down, handing the cup to her with a small bow. "It is the same as I brewed for your sister."

The girl nodded. "Will you show me how to make it? Does it require youkai powers?"

"It is a simple brew of herbs," he replied. "You are interested in herbal healing?"

"'Course I am," said Kaede. "A really strong miko can heal with her spiritual power, but I'm not going to be that strong, so I have to know the other ways."

"Ah. I will show you later, then."

The girl moved off carefully. Kikyo watched her kneel by Inuyasha, then looked up at Cheiriyo. "How do you know healing for humans? And why help us? You're youkai."

He gave an odd dip and toss of his head. "Healing is what I do, my … gift, my skill, you might say. As did the Inu no Taisho, I … find humans to be—intriguing. I … indulge my curiosity."

"The Inu no Taisho?" she echoed, frowning a little.

"Inuyasha-sama's father—surely you have heard of the White Dog of the Western Lands?"

Her eyes widened. "The legendary taiyoukai, the inu youkai who lured beautiful women into his clutches, and was cursed by the gods and slain while trying to protect his last lover?"

The youkai winced. "'Last' lover? The great lord had only one human love, and that was the lady Izayoi, mother to Inuyasha-sama."

"What?" Kikyo gasped. "But, he died—generations ago! Didn't he? How—how could he be Inuyasha's father? Inuyasha doesn't look any older than—fifteen, sixteen at the most!"

"Hanyo lifespans tend to fall between their parental lifespans, as does their strength, though their pattern of physical growth is unique to each individual. Inuyasha is not yet physically mature, but he was born shortly before the Inu no Taisho died."

Which had been, according to the records at the temple, over a century ago. A century and a half? Two centuries? Kikyo shot a glance at Inuyasha. He was staring at her, obviously having overheard. When he saw her glance, he glowered, then brought up the cup he was holding, and tossed the drink back, before snapping his head away and returning to his defensive huddle.

Kikyo looked down at her own cup, and drank, the astringent taste a welcome counter to the internal shivering. Bringing it down, she stared at the empty cup, trying to grapple with this latest revelation. She'd known that Inuyasha was almost certainly older than he looked: he was hanyo, after all. She'd never really thought about it—he certainly acted like a boy much of the time. But, six, seven times her own nineteen years? And the son of the legendary White Dog himself, the inu-youkai reputedly so powerful, that he could cause earthquakes with his howl? That youkai?

A thought oozed through the shock.

No wonder Inuyasha needed a seal on his blood...

* * *

**Author's Note:** sigh. I truly didn't mean to go four months between updating! Real life gets in the way sometimes, especially if there's important decisions to be made that I don't really want to make. (Indecisiveness is a weakness...) I'm hopefully starting to come out of the slough of the last few months, so let's see if I can get at least one more chapter posted this month. Next time: The Search for the Black Pearl!


	29. The Hunt for the Black Pearl, Part 1

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 28: The Hunt For the Black Pearl, Part 1**

Miyatsu watched with amusement, as the black-haired boy tried once again to evade the transformed elk. "I'm fine!" He insisted, though his bobble when he attempted to lengthen his stride indicated otherwise. "Leave me alone!"

"Inuyasha, please come up." Kikyo leaned forward from her position on the elk's back. "Cheiriyo's doing us a favor."

Inuyasha looked at her a moment, then snatched his head away with a shouted 'no.' Miyatsu's eyes narrowed. Something in the timbre of that shout suggested more than just the pride of a boy who didn't want to admit weakness. There had been an edge of panic in his voice. But, why?

"Inuyasha ani-ue, what's wrong?" Kaede trotted up to the boy and took his hand, as Miyatsu did a double-take. Brother?

Everyone else did as well. The little girl ignored the stares, saying something to Inuyasha in a whisper. The boy answered just as quietly, shaking his head. The conversation continued for several moments, and then the girl turned to look at the elk.

"Cheiriyo-sama, Kikyo-ane-sama, Inuyasha doesn't want to ride," she told them in a scolding tone. "It's his feet, and anyways, it's bad enough he's got to try and remember where he was when he lost the black pearl, so stop nagging him!"

The elk tossed his head. "I am only trying to help Inuyasha-sama," he said, annoyed, stomping a forefoot. "Human bones will heal wrongly, if not cared for, and I—"

"And Inuyasha isn't going to be human forever," retorted Kaede, scowling.

The cloven hoof stamped again. "You don't know that, little one," said Cheiriyo. "None of us know whether Inuyasha-sama will recover his youkai blood. And if he remains human—"

Kikyo leaned forward. "Cheiriyo-dono, I appreciate your help, but Kaede's right. It's Inuyasha's decision; if he doesn't want to ride ... arguing won't help us find the pearl."

The elk turned his head enough to look at her with one, sky-blue eye, and then sighed. "I bow to your greater knowledge of your kind, miko." The horned head dipped with his words, then swung so both eyes could fix on Inuyasha.

"Inuyasha-sama." Miyatsu saw the tension in the boy's shoulders lessen as he turned his head towards the elk. The girl relaxed as well, though she continued to grip Inuyasha's hand. The monk shook his head internally, wondering at the influence the little girl was exerting on the hanyo-turned-human, and the entire situation in general. A pity she was so scarred: she clearly had all the mental and emotional skills to become a superlative woman in a few years. A pity the external would never match the internal potential...

... ... …

Jaken sat in the hot sun, arms across his chest, staff across his thighs, and glowered. He was angry that he'd talked himself into this job, but not in a hundred years was he going to give up! That disgusting hanyo was going to join his brother for the war against the panthers, or his name wasn't Jaken! One way or the other, he would get that being to the fight, whether still human, hanyo, or youkai.

But, he couldn't help worrying, that he was running out of time. The panthers wouldn't politely wait for Inuyasha to come to Sesshomaru's side. Treacherous beasts that they were, they would be more than happy to take on the old general's sons one at a time. He had to get the hanyo to agree to go, and soon. But, how?

Movement attracted his attention. A cavalcade of humans and youkai appeared coming around the human house, the miko on the elk-youkai's back. Jaken shuddered internally, wanting to vomit at the disgusting spectacle. Cheiriyo was an old, strong youkai—if scarcely up to Sesshomaru's power—and to see him be humiliated by carrying a human—!

And next to the elk walked the human Inuyasha, his hand held by that miko-child. Almost as bad. Did the hanyo have no respect for his taiyoukai blood that he consorted so openly with humans? With spiritually-powered humans, at that? The wretch didn't deserve his father! He should have been killed when he was born: he had to wonder at the mercy of his master who had let the hanyo live, when he could have so easily snuffed out his life. The hanyo should be crawling on hands and knees to that the full-blooded inu youkai for his life, rather than trying to fight, whenever they met. Ungrateful hanyo! Stupid hanyo!

The group moved north, away from the house, clearly going no faster than the limping human boy could manage. Jaken watched them until they were well past him, then stood up, and began to follow them. He wasn't going to risk losing track of Inuyasha. Remembering the barrier that had nearly knocked down the hawk youkai, he advanced with the staff held ahead of him. He made no effort to close the gap—being noticed wasn't something he desired, either. He rather wished he could have just stayed where he was or gone off to find a bit of shade and something to eat. But, no, he had his responsibilities, and he wasn't going to slack off!

... ... ...

"Inuyasha-sama, do you remember which direction you went, when you escaped?"

"I don't—know." Inuyasha looked at the ground, away from the shape-shifted youkai, hating where he was, wishing he could be back in that tiny, peaceful glade that Bokuseno had created for him. "I jumped through the broken roof, and headed where I could smell water."

"The north side, then," said Cheiriyo. Inuyasha flinched away as the elk's nose touched his back. "Let's walk this way, Inuyasha. Look around, take your time. Remember, nothing here is going to harm you."

With one hand still gripped by Kaede, Inuyasha forced himself walk, vaguely thankful that the tea had reduced the pain in his feet. They skirted the house on the east side. A fragrant breeze brought a hint of flowers, and he realized that he might be better off, for now, as human. If he were able to smell Tsubaki's lingering scent, or the puppet's, he didn't know what he would do, even without the unbound blood gnawing at him. As they moved around the corner, he forced himself to look at the house. It was vaguely familiar, but it wasn't triggering any sense of terror. Managing to breathe a little deeper, he slowly looked away from the house. The north side was a basic meadow, one area near the house looking rather like an abandoned herb garden, accompanied by a roofed well. The house stood at the highest point, and the meadow trailed downslope towards a fringe of trees. He tried not to remember too deeply the pain and effort of his struggle to escape, as his limbs broke, one by one, gingerly testing what he remembered.

"A tree," he said suddenly. "A limb, kinda shaped…" He made a gesture with his free hand. The image was there, in his mind. "If—if I get close, look underneath, I might recognize it."

"How high was the branch?"

"It—my knees were off the ground, I hung from it with one hand," Inuyasha replied somewhat choppily, trying not to really think about what he had been trying to do.

"Roughly head-height," murmured Cheiriyo, from behind. "Go on."

Trying not to limp, and trying not to feel scared, Inuyasha slowly walked through the meadow towards the trees. Kaede's grip on his hand was oddly comforting, offsetting the nerves twitching at the thought of a big, dangerous youkai only a few feet behind him. As he came closer to the trees, he concentrated on examining each tree in turn, trying to match any of their branches with the image he had in his mind. They were three-fourth of the way there, when something caught his eye. He veered to his right, then pointed with his chin. "That one, maybe."

"Let's take a look. Akeneka, if want to go ahead…"

The kitsune yipped and bounded ahead. Inuyasha tried not to resent her ease of movement and her ability to transform.

"You're doing well, lad," murmured Cheiriyo.

Inuyasha welcomed the frisson of annoyance, to counter the gnawing apprehension in his gut. He looked away from the trees, watching the ground just in front of his feet. He felt his legs trying to slow, and told them to keep moving forward. There was nothing to be afraid of, he told himself. Tsubaki was dead. Kikyo, Kaede, the monk and the elk were on Inuyasha's side. Nothing was going to happen to him. They would find the pearl, his youkai blood would return, and the pearl would control it.

He tried to believe it.

Akeneka was waiting for them under the tree, giving a sad yelp as they approached, indicating that her search was negative. It made little difference to Inuyasha, as he stopped short, staring. "That's it," he said, feeling the gnawing apprehension grow stronger.

"Don't look at the tree," said Cheiriyo. "Look around. Can you remember which direction?"

Inuyasha looked around, and recognized a scrawny bush. "There. I—that's where… arms broke. Started … to crawl…"

"How much further did you manage to get?"

"Not far… I…"

Fear roared up, coating his back and his face in sweat, sending his stomach twisting, bringing the taste of bile to the back of his throat. The trees, the branches, the buzzing of insects—He reeled, jerking away from Kaede's hand. "Gotta go," he whispered, pulling away. "Can't." His voice rose. "Can't do this—let me go!"

He whirled and ran back into the sunlight, stumbled and went to his knees, fighting for breath, fighting not to vomit, fighting not to cry. He didn't want to remember! He refused to remember. He wouldn't remember, what it felt like, the fear, the pain, he wouldn't remember!

"Inuyasha?"

He started, snapping his head up. Kaede went to her knees beside him. "You okay? Big brother?"

Big Brother. He remembered. Waiting in the corner of the hut, waiting to turn human, afraid he was going to die, and Kaede talking to him, wanting to call him 'big brother.'

His eyes riveted on her eye-patch, and the red line of the scar above and below. "Your eye," he whispered.

"It hurt," she said promptly. "I was scared. I thought the youkai was going to kill me. Kikyo saved me."

"But, it'll never heal," he said, feeling a vague sense of shame, that he was so terrified of his memories. At least, he had healed, he could see. Kaede would always be half-blind.

She shrugged. "I know. I'm mad, sometimes. I'm jealous, sometimes, of the other girls. I wasn't pretty, before this. But, I'll be a miko, and it won't matter."

"You're braver than I am," he whispered.

She snorted. "No, I'm not. I was hurt in a fight. You were tortured, for days and days, and then almost killed, and then you lost yourself, and now you had to come back to where you were tortured—that's brave."

"But, I keep feeling so scared," he whispered. "I—you saw—I just had to get out."

"But, you're still here," she pointed out. "You'd go back, if they needed you, wouldn't you? Isn't that what bravery is? Being scared, and doing it anyway?"

Inuyasha blinked at her, feeling a bit better. "It is?"

"Course it is!"

… … …

Akeneka was feeling frustrated. She had found a couple of spots that might have been marks of Inuyasha's claws digging into the ground, but she could find no scents that could be associated with the hanyo, nor any scent remotely like a shell. Besides, the shells of snails that is, disgusting creatures, but they were alive, and the black pearl should have a very different combination of smells to it. She had been back and forth, down to the water and back again, and had found no hint of this thing they were looking for.

She sighed, rubbed her nose against her foreleg, and began to cast for a clue again. Surely, there was something here. She widened her search, moving further off the imaginary line. Something different impinged on her questing nose. She paused, slowly sweeping her head back and forth. There. She altered her path again, moving slowly. The smell was faint. She lost it, found it again, and trailed it to its source. Something black, something that smelled rather ashy, but not of wood, nestled against a stone, covered by a tiny, broken branch with dried leaves. It wasn't any sort of pearl, but it was something. She barked.

"What is it?" asked Myoga popping up onto the top of her head, from wherever he'd been hiding in her fur. "Did you find it?" He jumped down to the ground. "That's not a pearl, that looks like a piece of black paper." He sniffed, the tip of his snout touching the paper, and then he jumped back. "I feel reiki!" he exclaimed. "Human reiki!"

… … …

Kikyo sat next to the little scrap, hand over it, concentrating. "It's very weak," she said, finally. "But, I think it's hers. A shikigami, perhaps."

"The puppet that looked like you?" asked Miyatsu.

She shook her head, opening her eyes and leaning back. "I don't think so. Feels… older, and no malice. I can't imagine the spell that created my double not having a great deal of malice about it."

"So, does this help us in any way?" asked Cheiriyo, having resumed human form.

"I don't know." Kikyo twisted around, to peer out into the light. Inuyasha was still kneeling, back to the trees. Kaede was beside him, her arm draped over his shoulders. "Inuyasha," she called out. She saw him straighten up and look over his shoulder. "Were there any other shikigami about, besides my double?"

He didn't answer for a moment, glancing at Kaede who appeared to say something. He nodded. "Yeah. There was a kind of—little man," he said. "Small, strong, and, um, very polite. She claimed I destroyed him, after those—those things blinded me. I—don't remember." He looked down, then back up. "He was called Kuroshin." Another pause. "She was really, really mad about losing Kuroshin."

"So," said Myoga, drawing attention back to him, "we can say with more assurance that this is where Inuyasha was attacked. But, no evidence of the pearl."

The kitsune drooped her ears, looking ashamed. A bit surprised to see expression in a youkai beast, Kikyo said, "It's been over half a moon, and it has rained several times. I'm surprised there is anything left to find."

"The pearl should still be here," said Myoga, bouncing slightly. "We have to find it!"

"If something found it and took it, we may never find it," pointed out Miyatsu.

Myoga moaned.

... ... …

Akeneka was glumly trailing the others back to the house, disappointed that she hadn't been able to find the black pearl. Kitsunes had good noses—she had a good nose—so why hadn't she been able to sniff out the black pearl? The hanyo had seemed certain of the location, and the tiny scrap of reiki-soaked ash should have confirmed it. So why?

An errant breeze brought whiffs of a somewhat familiar scent. Swinging her head around, she caught sight of a blur of motion. Curious—and eager to get away from her gloomy thoughts of failure—the kitsune pricked her ears and altered course. She trotted purposely towards the object of interest; then, when it started to move away, she shifted to a gallop.

Jaken threw her a look of panic, tried to run, and tripped over his own two feet. Kitsune instincts surged to the fore, and Akeneka did not resist. She pounced, producing a squawk as her forepaws landed on his back. Grabbing his hat with her teeth, she pulled it off, tossed it up in the air, transformed and then grabbed it as it fell with her hands.

Rolling over onto his back, Jaken gave her a glare that combined indignation and consternation. "What was that for?" he demanded. "How dare you treat Sesshomaru-sama's most trusted servant like a-a-a rabbit?"

She giggled. "Are you really going to tell him that?" she asked. "You were spying on us. Why didn't you join us, if you wanted to know what was going on?"

The mottling on his green skin became more evident as blood rushed to his face. "Give me back my hat!" he demanded, climbing to his feet.

She twirled the hat on a fingertip. "Come back to the house and have supper with us."

He bristled. "Eat with humans? Never!"

Akeneka made a pretend pout. "Oh, well, go hungry then. And…" She cast a significant glance at the sky, with the growing layer of clouds. "...Maybe sleep in the rain, and worry about youkai which might be prowling about the barrier. Which isn't up right now, because Miyatsu-sama took it down, but they plan to put it up before they go to sleep…"

The big, yellow eyes bulged with alarm. Jaken swallowed visibly, stared up at the sky, then looked around the bushy meadow and the looming trees. Turning back to her, he tried to jump, small, two-fingered hand reaching for his hat.

"Give it back!"

Akeneka giggled again. "Come and get it," she singsonged. She tossed it back high into the air, jumped up as a fox to catch it, then trotted off towards the house, her bushy tail a triumphant banner.

She was not surprised to hear him follow.

... ... …

The storm grumbled and growled, but seemed disinclined to spit rain. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the south porch, arms wrapped around his legs, not caring should the rain come or not.

He couldn't bear sitting inside. The others had stripped the chosen room of any furnishings, but Inuyasha had still barely managed to stay inside long enough to bolt down a meal. That food lay uncomfortably in his stomach, and he knew that it was only partly the location which was causing his unease.

It was the night of the new moon. He hadn't been certain, given how muddled his memory was for time since he had woken up under Goshinboku, but Kaede had very quietly asked him about it this afternoon.

The night itself wasn't the problem. He didn't really have to worry about his life, not with the power of Kikyo and that monk Miyatsu. In fact, they planned to reestablish the barrier before retiring.

Dawn, instead, was his fear. Though usually the moment of dawn was the time towards which he yearned the entire night, now, it was a point of dread.

Would he stay human, signaling that the tree and the healer had destroyed his youkai blood for good? Would his youkai blood return? Without the seal of the black pearl, would it overwhelm his human side and turn him back into that mindless monster? With Kikyo and Kaede in reach?

He couldn't bear it, if the worst happened and he killed them.

He'd rather die than have their blood on his hands.

The shoji behind him slid aside. The light step was the youkai healer's.

"Inuyasha-sama. I brought you more tea, the same as I made this afternoon. Please, drink."

"Why?" he demanded, not looking up. "What fucking difference does it make?"

"The tea helped your pain earlier, did it not?"

Inuyasha hunched his shoulders and refused to answer, though the answer was 'yes.' "Besides helping with the pain, the herbs will also help your bones heal faster." Cheiriyo continued after a pause. "I know that you may find it difficult to think about remaining human, but I urge you to try. This tea will help—Kikyo-sama has already had a cup."

"Okay, okay." Gracelessly, Inuyasha unwound enough to accept the wooden cup. He sniffed automatically, grumbled silently when his numbed nose refused to identify anything, and sipped tentatively. It was strong, but not particularly mouth-puckering. He gulped it down, but was surprised when the healer offered a second cup, which even to his nose smelled of mint.

"Remember your parents," the youkai murmured. "They both gave much for you: believe in yourself. We will find a way,"

He left, silent and graceful. Inuyasha sipped slowly, remembering. Remembered his mother; remembered her tears when he asked her what 'hanyo' had meant. Remembered how she had loved him and taught him everything she could, doing all she could to prepare him for a future when he wouldn't have her: a future that came too soon, regardless. He thought of the revelations about his sire by the old tree; how the youkai had chosen to drain his powers to see into possible futures, and so be able to make decisions to guide the future to one he most wanted. Had his father foreseen that he would lose the pearl? How was he to find it?

A gentle patter of rain finally came, when the shoji slid aside again.

"Inuyasha?"

He straightened. "Kikyo?"

The door slid shut. "Help me sit?"

He jumped to his feet, and helped her lower herself to the floor, trying not to think of the feel of her warm body against his. "How's the leg?" he asked awkwardly, when they were both seated.

"It was aching, but it's better. Cheiriyo-dono's tea does help the pain."

"Yeah."

"I never knew there was such a thing as a youkai healer," she said after a long pause. "And was even more surprised, when he said he knew some things about human ailments. But, I haven't smelled or sensed anything wrong with the drink, and he had Kaede watching this evening while he made it…"

Silence again. Inuyasha picked up his empty cup, turning it in his hands, scared to look at Kikyo. Scared to think of the morning.

"Kaede reminded me," she murmured, very softly.

Inuyasha looked up, but could not see her expression in the darkness. "You're worried about dawn," she continued, just as softly.

"Yeah."

"Tsubaki's workroom is on the other side of the house," she said. "There's no spells on the porch, and the barrier is a set-spell that either Miyatsu or I can trigger. He agrees with me that a second, smaller barrier meant to contain your youkai, if it returned, would be no problem. But, only if you ask—I won't imprison you without permission."

The others would be safe from him? "Please," he said, feeling a great wave of relief. "I-I'm scared, what I'll do, if I turn back."

Out of the dark, her hand searched for his, and covered it. "You won't kill like that again, Inuyasha. Whatever it takes, we'll find a way to bind your blood."

The whispered fierceness of her words melted a dark cold in his chest. Kikyo was not against him. She wanted to help him. She had not turned away from him.

… … …

Kikyo slept restlessly. The first streaks of dawn found her awake, wondering if she should go out and check on Inuyasha. Did she want him to turn back into hanyo, or remain human? It bothered her, why she was even wondering. Hadn't she been the one who came up with the idea of using the Shikon no Tama to turn Inuyasha human? The logic of the situation hadn't changed, surely. He was still, as hanyo, condemned to exist as an outsider, as having nowhere and no one to belong to. And yet, he had looked so different yesterday. He had seemed so … diminished…

"Miko-sama," murmured a soft voice beyond the screen which had been set up to provide some modesty for herself and Kaede. "I have made tea for you, should you wish to rise. Your sister is helping Yukuuku prepare breakfast."

Kikyo looked to her side and saw that Kaede was, indeed, already gone. Sitting up on the futon which had once belonged to Tsubaki, she reached for her bag of supplies. After a quick combing and tying back her hair, she reached for her crutch and struggled to her feet. Limping around the screen, she discovered that the youkai had retreated, leaving open the shoji that led to the other room being used for cooking. The smell of rice, baking roots, fish and tea encouraged her to move more quickly.

The fire in the pit was lively, painting the room with light and shadows. In one corner, Yukuuku and Kaede had their heads together, with the girl grinding something in a mortar. Akeneka and Miyatsu occupied one side of the fire pit, both looking sleepy as they sipped tea, while on another side sat the small, green-skinned imp who had been introduced yesterday as 'Jaken.'

"How does your leg feel this morning?" Cheiriyo asked, dropping to a squat next to her. He handed her the filled cup.

Kikyo considered his question, while taking a careful sip. "Better," she said with mild surprise. "It doesn't hurt."

He smiled. "I am pleased. I have instructed your sister in making the tea, and will provide her with a container of herbs sufficient for your use. I believe that you can start putting some weight on your leg at the next full moon, with some care."

That was about a quarter-moon cycle earlier than she had calculated. Her surprise must have been apparent, as he added an explanation. "I have treated several humans for broken bones, miko-sama; five quarter moons have been sufficient for simple breaks." He added, "You will, of course, not attempt to run."

"Of course," she replied drily.

"I also have a cup ready for Inuyasha," he said, after a moment. "However, the barrier prevents me from giving it to him."

She nodded, and quickly drained the cup. "I'll come with you. He's still human?"

"Yes."

He took her cup, and placed it down by another, which he picked up. Together, they left the room, and then went towards the south shoji of the larger room. Stepping outside, Kikyo could see that sunrise was near.

Inuyasha was still asleep, sitting up against the wall of the building. Kikyo lowered the barrier and nodded to the youkai. Stepping past the former boundary, Cheiriyo squatted by the slumbering human.

"Inuyasha-sama," he said, not reaching for the boy's arm. "Wake up, Inuyasha."

Inuyasha shifted a little, mumbling. Then, abruptly, he lurched to his feet, tried to jump and spin at the same time, and landed wrong. With a yelp, he went to one knee, and then staggered back to his feet. He slammed into a post and stopped, wild-eyed and panting. "Shit!" he snarled, glaring at the youkai. "What was I doing asleep?" He looked at his hands, looked to the east, then snapped his head back around, spotting Kikyo.

"What's the barrier doing down?" he demanded. "Get it up, now!"

"It's safe," she said. "Cheiriyo-dono wanted to give you your morning tea."

Inuyasha did not stir from his spot, glaring at the youkai as he stood up. "What tea? What did you put in that tea last night—I wasn't going to sleep!"

"Only a very mild soporific, Inuyasha-sama," said Cheiriyo. He held the cup out at arm's length, not attempting to close in on the agitated boy. "Your human body needs rest to heal."

Inuyasha bared his teeth in a snarl. Though Kikyo half-expected him to reject the cup, the boy instead took two steps forward, snatched the cup and drained it. Retreating to the post, he threw the cup back at the youkai who caught it neatly. "Get him out of here, Kikyo!" he ordered. "Now!"

"As you wish." Cheiriyo's tone was unruffled, and he bowed before retreating. Inuyasha didn't move until the shoji slid shut. Moving to the middle of the porch, he dropped down to a squatting position, then winced and dropped further to a sitting position.

"Get it up, damn it!" he snapped, lowering his voice to a fierce whisper. Kikyo sighed and mentally repeated the cantrip that focused her power. She felt the power flow out around the posts and walls and floor, sparkling blue momentarily. Inuyasha sighed, some of the tension fleeing his shoulders.

"Don't do that again, Kikyo," he said after a few moments. "If I'd been hanyo …"

"You were human," she said. "And it isn't yet time."

"Yeah." He turned around to face east, drawing up his legs and wrapping his arms around them.

"Do you mind if I wait?" she asked.

He shook his head.

In silence, together, yet separated, they waited for the sun.

… … …

Inuyasha's gut churned, despite the protection of the barrier. He stared at the tree line, waiting for the first spark from the rising sun. Soon. Soon. Would he be doomed to remain human? Would he return to his normal hanyo self? Would his youkai blood devour his awareness again?

The last few moments of the night of new moon were always the hardest. They always moved so slowly. There had always been, he realized now, a tiny frisson of fear, that something would happen to keep his youkai blood from returning. But, this time, that fear was much more real. And balanced against that, was this other, newer fear. To become, not hanyo, rejected by the world, maybe, but aware and able to make his own choices, but a mindless, youkai monster. The memory may have come in a dream, but it was complete and real, and he hated it. Hated that sensation of sheer, slavering bliss, the utter delight in the smell of blood and brutal, stinking death. He could remember each split moment with utter clarity, as his claws reached out towards that staggering, maimed and defeated human woman. He had seen the realization and despair in her eyes; that final moment before his youkai self tore her apart, and his youkai had—laughed. Had enjoyed her emotions.

Inuyasha knew he was not a saint. He had exulted many times in defeating his foes; crowed in exultation as he cut them down. And yet, it was different. The fierce joy, the exultation that came in the tide of battle—a battle, too often, which was not only started by his opponent, but began with the sneers and insults of a youkai towards the 'weak', 'disgusting' hanyo. But, what he felt those times, was but a faint shadow of what he could recall of his killing Tsubaki. Normally, most of his joy was tied in with the awareness that he had survived.

There was none of that in the memory. No sense of self-awareness, or of the desire to live, or relief. There had been only the overwhelming tide of bloodlust and the sickening, horrible desire to kill.

He loathed that memory.

Hated it.

And dreaded it.

The first ray struck his eyes. Inuyasha took a gasping breath, then closed his eyes, feeling, waiting for that first pulse of returning youkai.

Nothing.

Opening his eyes, he watched the sun, waiting. One breath, two, three.

Nothing.

Part of his mind wailed. Oh, gods! He didn't want to be human! He didn't!

He told his whimpering self to shut up. He could live as a human. He had been willing to do it, for Kikyo. He could still do it. He would be human; he would marry Kikyo and settle down in a village, and be like all the other humans. He would be normal, accepted.

Inuyasha tried to persuade himself of that; that this goal was acceptable. Even preferable.

But, deep in his gut, anger started to simmer. And then surge.

It wasn't fair. He wasn't meant to be human, damn it! Look what his sire had done, expending his power, going to his death willingly, all to protect him and his mother! Look at his mother! Yes, she had cried when he asked what he was and why he was different, but he knew she didn't regret what he was. Always, she had loved him for what he was! She had done everything she could, to protect him, teach him, love him. As a hanyo! A hanyo!

And now, thanks to that evil witch, thanks to the machinations of a stupid, old tree and an equally stupid elk, he was to live out his very shortened life as a human?

No!

He glared at the tree line, anger rising, bitterness fueling the nascent rage. Didn't the world owe him at least one break in his lifetime? He'd vanquished the Shikon no Tama! The most powerful jewel in existence, sought by human, and youkai both, and he had ended it! And this was his reward? To be stripped, humiliated, tortured by that Tsubaki? To have his father's seal on his blood ripped away, turning him into a monster? To have risked his life to search for an answer among pure youkai, to have taken the step of trusting his brother, and this was his answer? To be stripped of his senses, his strength, his longevity? To be half-destroyed? To be human, forever?

The sun was halfway up over the horizon, and he wanted to scream in rage.

No!

Thump.

Inuyasha started, breath catching in his throat. What?

Thump.

Was he imagining it? It was late! The sun was almost entirely up!

But, no.

Thump. Thump.

Inuyasha scrambled to his feet, feeling the pulse of returning youki, as it settled into sync with his pounding heart. Thump, thump, thump.

He felt the first ache in his face, in his ears, in his fingers and hands, in his toes. He felt the youki flaring within him, stronger with each beat, as it returned from wherever it went on his moonless night. Inuyasha uttered a strangled laugh. Hanyo! He was going to be hanyo!

And, then, between pulses, it all turned to pain.

… … …

Kikyo felt the first pulse of youkai, and stiffened. Hand clenching her crutch, she waited with bated breath, apprehension, and curiosity both churning within. Sunlight flooded the porch, placing him in silhouette as he stood facing east, hands before him. She heard his croaked cry, and felt a twinge of regret, realizing that the human Inuyasha was going to disappear for at least a moon.

He cried out moments later, startling her, and then he crumpled to hands and knees. She felt youki pulses change, becoming uneven, jagged in intensity. White flashed across his black hair, and he went to his elbows with a further cry. What was going on? Did the transformation always cause him pain like this?

The shoji door slammed back. "Inuyasha!" cried Kaede. She was kept from running into the barrier by a long, slender hand. "Kikyo-sama," said Cheiriyo, coming up alongside her. "We felt the youki pulses and heard his cry."

The body on the other side of the barrier shuddered. "I don't know whether this is wrong or not," whispered Kikyo. "I've never seen him transform before."

"It isn't right," said Kaede, straining forward. "I was with him, when he turned human. He was badly injured and weak, but he said then, it was usually only uncomfortable, not actually painful."

"We may be seeing a side-effect of the poison, then," said Cheiriyo grimly. "I have never heard of any other hanyo being given this poison, and no two hanyos are alike."

"Then, why did you give it to him?" cried Kaede, shaking as Inuyasha jerked again.

"It was the only chance to save his soul and his sanity," replied the healer, bleakly. "We tried other ways."

Uneven patterns of gray, silver and white were flowing over his short hair, which was visibly growing. Inuyasha jerked upwards, twisting, given them a momentarily glance of his grimacing face, and then he slammed back onto clawed hands that audibly dug into the wood with a 'crack!' He cried out, a strangled cry that might have had pain, maybe anger.

And then, he growled.

Kikyo paled, recognizing the timber of that growl, though she had heard it only once before. "No!" she cried out. "Inuyasha! Inuyasha—can you hear me!"

Spasms ran down his shoulders. "Hear - you," he managed between pants, with the same deeper and rougher voice.

"Your youkai—you can't let it control you! You have to fight it down, Inuyasha!"

"Know-that." Another spasm rippled through his body, and he gave a guttural growl. "Loud. Back … of my mind. Wants. Blood. Death. Clawing. Fighting it. Don't … want … it … in control."

"I can use the kotodamu," she suggested. "It subdued your youkai, before—"

"No!" he shouted before she could quite finish. He panted a few moments, then added. "Don't. Don't make me angry. Could make, could make things worse." He flung his head from side to side, and now Kikyo could see the white ears pinned to his skull. "Fuck you, bastard," he whispered. "Won't let you—out. My life. Mine. Not yours. Never yours."

The pulsing faded, into a skittering, shifting aura laced with anger and desperation and surges of pure blood lust. The claws pulled out of the wood, Kikyo wincing a little at their abnormal length. "Tell the youkai to go back inside," Inuyasha said moments later, his voice pitched closer to normal. "And that monk."

"We will go, Inuyasha-sama," said Cheiriyo, releasing his shoulder grip on Kaede.

Kaede edged closer to the barrier as retreating feet sounded behind them. When the shoji slid shut, she spoke. "Inuyasha—big brother—are you all right?"

Kikyo gave her sister a startled look, having forgotten Kaede's use of the familial term the day before.

"Keh." He eased backward until he was sitting on his heels. "No." He was still panting, gulping for breath. "I'm hanyo again, but it feels … it's an oni, shouting in my mind, clawing, and I - can't get rid of it, because it's me." Slowly, he stood up, and turned around. Golden eyes, faintly overcast with red, looked down on them. "Kikyo. Kaede little-sister."

She couldn't help asking. "Since when did you two start calling each other sibs?" she asked.

Inuyasha met her gaze with a one-sided smile that was somehow charming, despite the peeking fangs. "Ask the brat," he said drily. "It was her idea." His gaze shifted to the girl. "Talk to me, Kaede, if I start sounding crazy," he said. "I know your voice; it cuts through 'it'; your voice may help. Don't touch me," he cautioned. "Don't come closer. But, keep talking."

The girl nodded. Kikyo felt somewhat hurt.

"Won't my voice do, Inuyasha?" she asked.

The hazed eyes drilled into hers. "Not as well, Kikyo," he said. "It's the kotodamu. I—I understand why you put it on my neck. I even know you've saved me once already with it. But it's…" One hand rose as if to grab it, then went back down. "I hate it. It's—it's too close, to what, what Tsubaki did. The collars…"

She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered after a long moment. "If only there'd been another way."

He sighed. Taking a few steps, he sagged against the wall. "Yeah, well, there wasn't." He let himself slide down to the floor, reaching up to scratch his skull with both hands. "Hey, brat."

"The name's Kaede," she retorted. "Or little sister."

"Ok. Kaede-brat. Get me some breakfast. I'm starving."

"Say please."

He peered at her beneath his rumpled bangs. "Please."

"Okay!"

Kaede hurried away. Kikyo waited.

"Kikyo."

"What do you plan to do?" she asked.

He sighed. "Go see whether I can sniff out that damn black pearl. Without the youkai, or the monk."

"Akeneka didn't find anything."

"Akeneka's kitsune. My nose is better. Lots better."

"And if you can't find it?"

He was silent for a moment, refusing to look at her.

"You better keep your bow and arrow ready."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, Inuyasha has turned back to his hanyo form, but the black pearl is still missing. Will his nose be superior to Akeneka's? Is the pearl still there to be found? Hopefully I will have part 2 up before the end of the month! (July)


	30. The Hunt for the Black Pearl, Part 2

**Chapter 29: The Hunt For the Black Pearl, Part 2**

In the end, Inuyasha did not get his way. Everyone except Yukuuku appeared on the south porch as soon as Kaede came back into the house with the empty bowl and chopsticks. Inuyasha glared at them, demanded they leave him alone, and snapped that it was none of their business when Cheiriyo asked for his plans. Kikyo explained his plan, and Miyatsu and Cheiriyo both launched into arguments about how it was a very bad idea for him to go off alone with just the two females. Pacing within the small area defined by the barrier, Inuyasha shouted and swore at them, insisting Kikyo and Kaede would be in more danger if accompanied, than not. Calmly, the two disagreed with him, making their points cooly, refusing to be ruffled at his name-calling, and refusing to consider alternatives.

Kaede was the first to catch the deepening edge of his voice as his temper rose, threatening his fragile control. "Inuyasha-kun," she said, interrupting him. "You're getting scary."

He whirled and stared at her, panting. "Scary?"

"Your voice is getting deeper," she said solemnly, looking up at him. "And your eyes are flickering red."

He stared at her, breathing hard. One. Two. Three.

"Shit." Whirling, he dropped down to a crouch, claws digging into the floorboards, his shoulder-length hair falling forward to shield his face as he fought to control his youkai blood. Finally, he asked,

"Kaede. What do you think?"

"What are you asking her?" asked Miyatsu, irritated. "This is about—"

"Miyatsu, don't," interrupted Kikyo. "Inuyasha trusts Kaede more than he does me, at the moment. She's aware of the dangers: Tsubaki nearly killed her, as well. Let her speak."

Kaede took her time, answering. "I think you should let Miyatsu-sama and Cheiriyo-dono come," she said. "Cheiriyo-dono can carry Kikyo; it'll be quicker than if she walks, and you won't have to concentrate on carrying her and keeping your youkai in check. As for Miyatsu, well … if you really lost control, wouldn't you … prefer … that someone besides Kikyo take you down? She—it really hurt her when she had to shoot you with that sealing arrow. Even though she knew, she'd be able to release you."

Cheiriyo started to speak, but halted as Kikyo snapped her hand up. Imp and vixen exchanged sulky glances, but remained silent.

"Damn interfering know-it-alls," muttered Inuyasha. "Okay, Kaede. I'll let them come, for Kikyo's sake. But, no one else! The imp and the kitsune and the tanuki stay here! Got it?"

"Of course, Inuyasha-sama," murmured Cheiriyo.

… … …

Jaken and Akeneka trooped back to the west room as the small cavalcade set off. They sat down near the fire-pit, and glanced at each other. "This is so unfair," grumbled Akeneka, crossing her arms. "He will not find anything. It's not as if I'd be doing anything except watching. And why shouldn't I watch? I'm one of those he almost killed: and if he does find the black pearl, I want to see what it looks like."

"Why waste all this time on trying to find a piece of jewelry?" Jaken added his complaints, as he used the staff to increase the faltering fire. "The panthers will attack any day, and the hanyo should be happy to go! He'll show he's not entirely ignorant of the honor of the inu blood. And he can let his youkai run free all it wants: just kick him towards the panthers and let him go."

"That doesn't seem fair," objected Akeneka. "Who would want to fight and die, not even knowing they were? Besides, what if he turns against his own side?"

Jaken shrugged. "Sesshomaru-sama can take care of him—no one's stronger."

"Even if youkai-Inuyasha, and all the panthers, attacked him at the same time?" she asked. "No one's that powerful."

"Do not under-estimate Sesshomaru's strength!" snapped Jaken, but his expression looked uncertain. "But, I do wish I understood what this 'pearl' is. And how it's supposed to help that stupid hanyo keep control of his blood."

"I wonder…" Akeneka stared into the fire, eyes unfocusing. "Myoga-ji-chan talked a lot about the Inu no Taisho when he was denning with me last winter. He always went on and on about how wise and clever the taiyoukai was, and how he even had a sword made to protect his human lover and their hanyo baby. He—"

"What!" Jaken jumped to his feet. "Sword! Did you say sword? Did Myoga give a name? What was it?"

She stared at him. "Sword? I …" She was silent for long moments. "Something-saiga, I think?" she said slowly. "Tossaiga, tussaiga—"

"Tessaiga!" proclaimed Jaken. "Where is it? Did Myoga say where it is?"

"What? No, not that I remember…"

"Tessaiga. Black pearl." Jaken marched in a little circle, muttering. "Tessaiga. Sesshomaru got the other sword, but Tessaiga was hidden from him. Why? What was he after, why hide it from his son? Unless ... of course!"

He whirled back to face Akeneka, excitement in every short inch of him. "It's got to be! The Inu no Taisho wanted to protect his hanyo son, but couldn't just leave him the sword: Sesshomaru would have taken it; of course, he would, the hanyo doesn't deserve it! He had to hide it: where better to hide it than in a pearl! That's got to be the answer!" He started towards the west exit, then turned around and glared at the kitsune. "Come on!" he demanded. "We can't let that oaf take the pearl when he finds it!"

"But—"

"You wanted to watch! Now, come on! Turn fox, and let's go! You don't want him to find it without us!"

Akeneka hesitated. She didn't understand everything the imp was nattering about. But, it sounded as though he wanted to steal the pearl from Inuyasha. That wasn't right. They really should stay here, as the others expected them to. But, she did want to see what was going on, and Jaken was clearly going to go whether she did or not. His thought of stealing the pearl was wrong, but if she could keep it from him...

… … …

A galloping fox, with a green-skinned imp on her back, hurtled past Yukuuku as she trudged up the steps to the porch, weighed down with heavy buckets on either end of the yoke. She wondered vaguely what they were up to, but ignored it, as she poured the water into the larger barrel. Stacking the buckets and yoke neatly back into their intended positions, the tanuki sighed, and wondered what else she could do. She didn't want to go back to her cave—that, she had already decided, was no longer home. She rather wished that she could just take off. She wanted to travel elsewhere, to find a more pleasant adventure. But, how could she leave the mistress' belongings unprotected? Who knew what those two enemies of her poor mistress would do to whatever spells and private things Tsubaki had hidden in her rooms? No, thought she had originally thought to move on before this morning, now she'd realized that she had to stay. No one would gain from her mistress' death!

… … …

The ground under the trees was sodden; the most dominant smell was last year's dead, damp, rotting undergrowth. Inuyasha paused under the same tree he had located yesterday, and tried not to grimace. For all his disparagement of the kitsune's sense of smell, he knew whether the pearl had been here, she would almost surely have found it. Although neither of them knew exactly what it smelled like, the fact was, that it had to smell different from other smells in the area. A made thing, of youkai magic: unless it had magic to hide its smell, would be obvious to any sensitive nose. And since the pearl had apparently been hidden in his eye, why go to the trouble of cloaking its smell? Especially since his would have been all over it, anyway.

He let his eyes drift down the ground he was fairly sure he had traversed in his futile effort to escape. He tried not to think of the memories too much: he didn't need to recall the pain, fear, and rage: not when it would only feed his youkai blood.

Breathing in, he smelled small birds, insects, at least three squirrels, and a quartet of rabbits. The smell of rabbit triggered his appetite, incompletely satisfied that morning. Rice, roots and berries and fish: feh.

Blood, blood, blood. His claws twitched, yearning to tear apart the rabbits and feast on hot, red meat.

Shut up, he told himself.

Slowly, he paced forward, searching for the tiny, broken branch that marked where Akeneka had discovered that solitary piece of burned paper that had once been part of the shikigami. A remorseful flicker of thought about the very polite, curious Kuroshin came forward, and was batted away. He didn't want to think about that strange little man right now. The location of the ash was simply the best place to start searching, as that was the area where he had been blinded, and were the pearl had presumably fallen to the ground after being pulled from his eye.

His stomach twisted at the memory the sickening pain and terror, forcing him to stop as his youkai blood surged. No! He denied it its reach for emotion, for the terror that it craved. Back! Eyes slitted, utterly still, he shoved the memories away. There was no fear; there was no pain. He was both human and youkai, and he would not let the one side take over the other. Something close to a laugh guttered in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He chose not to be youkai. Chose. He would not be controlled by stupid, unthinking lust and instinct. He would not!

"Inuyasha?"

It was a very quiet whisper. His ears twitched, and his blood tried to surge: danger! Behind him!

But, the whisper wasn't searched for her scent, and found it: human girl smell, a modest aura of Reiki, smelling of honest concern.

"Kaede-chan," he responded, forcing his arms to relax. "Bad memories. They're under control."

"That's good," she said. "That they're under control, I mean."

"I know what you meant, kid. Thanks." Head clearing a bit, Inuyasha took a pair of steps, and spotted the branch. Casting knowing eyes over the area, Inuyasha plotted his search pattern. This was going to have to be a careful and meticulous search, if he were going to find anything after so long.

He tried not to think of the possibility that he would fail.

Never.

… … …

Kikyo watched Inuyasha move slowly over the ground on his feet and hands, chin scraping the ground as he searched. It felt like candle-marks since he had gone down to all fours, though she knew it hadn't been that long.

His position, and the ease which he held it, made her feel uncomfortable. It reminded her of the partially reshaped form that Tsubaki had forced him into. Nothing human could have kept up that pose for very long, yet he moved as easily now, as when he had first dropped down. His dog traits were accentuated, with the twitching ears and the audible snuffling as he searched. The red clothing was a strong counterpoint to that, but, she reflected, she was just as glad that the tail Tsubaki had magicked onto him had gone the way of her controlling spells.

Deep down, she felt a surge of anger at the dead priestess. She knew that she didn't know half of what Tsubaki had done to Inuyasha. She wasn't sure she wanted to know more: the abject fear he had displayed when her and Inuyasha first came back together had been heartbreaking. She had known that Tsubaki was greedy for power, and she herself should have been more alert to the potential for Tsubaki's treachery, so she could have thrown off that curse before it settled.

But, Tsubaki's treatment of Inuyasha went far beyond a drive for power. That had been purely hate and sadism, and the thought of that bothered her. Why hadn't she sensed that potential earlier? Had Tsubaki changed that much, since their initial meeting? Had her desire for power—for the Shikon no Tama—bent her that much? Or was it the influence of the youkai she had chosen to bond with?

In front of her, Kaede shifted position on the elk youkai's broad back, and sighed. "I wonder if Inuyasha would be willing to go with me, the next time Amaya sends me out herb hunting? Some of those herbs she wants are really hard to find!"

"I heard that, brat!" called out Inuyasha, pausing in his search. Kikyo pulled her attention back to him, belatedly noticing the rise in his shifting youki. The sense of blood lust in it, which had been a constant presence since his transformation, was stronger, as was a distinct sense of frustration.

"It's not 'brat,'" retorted Kaede.

"Feh. Kaede-brat." Inuyasha eased back on his heels for a moment, moving his head back and forth, apparently to ease his neck, and then dropped back to all fours, his aura steadying.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she murmured quietly, as Inuyasha went back to his search. Kaede nodded, but said nothing. Kikyo thought about it, and realized that Kaede appeared to accept Inuyasha as he was far more than she did herself. And that feeling was clearly reciprocated: Inuyasha trusted Kaede more than he did her.

It was her fault, she supposed. It had been her suggestion that they use the Shikon no Tama to turn him human. It was her kotodama around his neck, with the implicit potential for control. But, he had agreed with her suggestion to wish for him to turn human. They would have done it, had Naraku not intervened. As for the kotodama, what choice had she had? No more choice than her decision to seal the youkai Inuyasha with the sacred arrow.

But, even aside from the fact that she was a miko and he a hanyo, how much of a relationship could they forge together, with that between them?

… … …

Sorting through the myriad chorus of scents for the most elusive was not something that he often had to do for a specific reason, but it was something he had indulged in often enough that he was good at it. Even as a kid at his mother's family's palace, he had enjoyed the challenge, though he had needed to learn to be discrete.

He was finding notes of his own smell, his blood, and his sweat, faded and wispy, but there. The smell of blood wasn't helping matters with keeping his youkai under control. It was a constant reminder of what had happened to him, and the awareness that he had almost died several times kept his blood simmering. Even when he managed a complete focus on his nose, the blood rose, and he had to pause occasionally to concentrate on beating the youki down.

Shaking his head free from such thoughts, Inuyasha brought his nose back down. There. Another whiff of that peculiar, paper-ink-and-ash smell that marked where he had, unaware, taken out the shikigami Kuroshin. He sidled to the right, sniffing, and finally decided that he had the location where the puppet had died. Moving back the other direction, he peered ahead of him. He had that single flash of visual memory of the moment before the two tiny youkai had struck. If he could just line up that image with what he was seeing now…

There. He turned slightly, looked over his shoulder to check that one specific tree, backed up slightly. Nose to the ground, Inuyasha sniffed, striving to filter every bit of knowledge out of all the hundreds of smells he was absorbing.

Hah. His blood, no question. Plus a hint of youkai-flavored smell, reminiscent of insect-type youkai. That made sense, from that image of those ugly little critters, which must have been dreamed up by a nastier mind than the priestess. Hmm. Some oddities mixed with his blood smell: his, but not a variation he recognized. Huh. Maybe the stuff that was inside his eyeballs.

And, odd. What was this overlay of tanuki-smell?

Familiar tanuki smell?

Yukuuku.

"Inuyasha? Is something wrong? You're growling."

His ears twitched, pointing back at Kaede, and then her words filtered into his brain. Damn! He snapped his head up, straightening his arms, and shook his head hard. _No, you don't, _Inuyasha told the traitorous part of his self. _Get back!_

"Bad smell," he said curtly, unwilling to get more specific. He didn't like Yukuuku, but he supposed it wasn't her fault that she was a blabbermouth, telling her 'mistress' things about him that he would rather the priestess hadn't known. It probably wasn't really her fault that she'd been used by that evil, stinking, nasty-minded excuse of a human woman—

He shook his head again, hard. The pearl, he reminded himself. Nothing else mattered but that little sphere of youkai magic, which had apparently been placed in his right eye the moment he was born. It had to be here. It just had to be.

Sniff, sniff, snuffle, sniff. Bit by bit, he covered the ground, unconsciously filtering out everything else except the few dozen smells that had to be key. Claw smell with blood and eyeball and youki carapace smells. Another spot of that combination. A third.

Something new. He paused, snuffled again, eyes closed, pulling in more of that elusive smell. Something that was vaguely, very vaguely familiar. What was it? His mouth ajar, to capture extra tendrils of information, he pulled in another breath. Not plant, not dirt, not blood, not animal. Something that whispered 'hard' to him. And 'smooth'. Something very close to something he had smelled a very long time ago. A smell that had once been familiar.

He took a third breath.

His mother's necklace.

A necklace of pearls and diamonds, with a white-shell pendant, which she never took off. Which, she had explained, had been a gift—the last gift, save her life, and his—from her beloved. A very special gift.

"He let me see it, before he returned to your mother," he remembered the old tree telling him. "His last visit to me, after he had been with Hosinki. He told me that the black pearl was within the pendant, for safekeeping. When you started to be born, the spell on the pearl would transfer it to your eye; to keep your blood bound."

He'd found the smell of the black pearl.

Encouraged, struggling to keep his excitement in check, Inuyasha kept searching. It had rolled after it hit the ground, he determined. Inch by inch he followed that wispy trail, expecting any moment for the smell to strengthen. He glanced ahead of him, at the thin, shade-shrunken grass, the bits of lichen, an errant stone or two. Where was it? It couldn't have rolled too far, could it?

He ran out of trail. Looked around: there was no way it could have bounced. He backed up, found the trail a second time, and followed it to the end.

Tanuki smell again. A faint spot, exactly circling the last bit of trail of the black pearl. He circled it, grumbling low in his throat. He found a larger ghost of tanuki smell. Sniffed, found the edges, traced it. Much larger. The melange of smells built an image in his mind. Yukuuku, catching a glint of something, kneeling, reaching out. Clawed thumb and finger plucking a black sphere from the ground, taking it into the air, where its scent would rapidly disperse.

She took it!

The realization exploded into him.

Yukuuku—that fluttering, chattering, cowardly tanuki—had the black pearl!

_His_ black pearl.

It was his! And she had it!

Rage exploded.

How dare she!

His!

His!

He leaped to his feet and broke into a run, howling. "Mine!"

… … …

The abrupt flare of youki and Inuyasha's howl took everyone by surprise. Cheiriyo jumped, tossing his head. Kikyo and Kaede yelped, barely keeping their positions on Cheiriyo's bare recovered first, flinging her arms around the elk's neck. "Sister!" she wailed. "He's youkai! The kotodama—use the kotodama!"

"Be still!" Kikyo leaned forward for balance, not seeing the result of her call. "Inuyasha! Be still!"

There was a thud, and the sharp flare of youki plummeted just as abruptly as it had risen. Snorting, Cheiriyo sidled, turning to face the downed Inuyasha. Kikyo watched the sprawling, flattened body, feeling the youki beating at the spell, and reached for her bow. "Inuyasha, be still," she called a third time.

His youki subsided. Kikyo relaxed a little, but pulled an arrow out of her quiver and set it against the bow. Miyatsu came into view, circling to move to the other side, his staff in one hand and a set of ofuda in the other.

Kikyo nudged Kaede's leg with her knee. "Talk to him, Kaede," she murmured.

"Oh!" Kaede twitched. "Right. Inuyasha!" She leaned forward, hiking herself higher on Cheiriyo's withers. "Inuyasha, can you hear me!"

He answered with a groan. "What the hell?" his voice came back, muffled. "Can't—move.'

"It'll wear off," said Kaede. "What happened? You were sniffing over the ground, and it looked like maybe you were finding something. And, then, you just leaped up howling, yelling 'Mine!', and running, and your youki just sort of—exploded, it increased so fast."

He swore. "I—transformed again?"

"Didn't see your face, but it felt like it. Kikyo ane-sama had to use the kotodama. She's sorry."

Inuyasha swore again. "Can you remember what happened?" asked Kaede. "Before you got mad?"

The hanyo was silent, the only motion from his breathing, and the slow twitch of his ears. "Found the smell of the pearl," he said slowly. "A trail, as though it rolled after if fell to the ground. The smell ended, and a tanuki's scent was around it. It's Yukuuku…"

His shoulders tensed, fighting the spell, and a low growl came out of his throat. "Hey, don't get mad, Inuyasha," said Kaede. "I bet Yukuuku just found it, thought it was pretty, and kept it. I'm sure she'll give it back, when you ask."

"Unless she gave it to Tsubaki," Kikyo said, and then, realizing the implications, blanched. If Tsubaki had it with her, even unaware of its portents, and if it had gone to the pyre with her remains...

"You're thinking it might have been burned up?" asked Miyatsu, not looking away from the pinned hanyo.

"Not possible," said Cheiriyo, swinging his horned head back and forth once. "The pearl was created by Hosinki. Mere fire would not even scorch it."

"And there was nothing out of the ordinary, when Tsubaki's ashes were gathered into the urn," said Miyatsu. "So, if we're lucky, Yukuuku has the pearl with her, or back in her cave. Or, if she gave it to Tsubaki, it may be in the house, or somewhere in the grass where she was killed." He grimaced. "At least, let us hope it's in one of those places."

"And that, if Yukuuku did give the pearl over, she knows where Tsubaki put it," added Kikyo.

"Who cares if that fat ringtail knows where the bitch put it?" asked Inuyasha crossly. "If it's in the house, I'll find it. Or else, maybe I'll have raw tanuki for supper," he added with a vicious edge.

"Inuyasha," Kikyo's voice was cold. She didn't think it was more than just his anger talking, but the idea was revolting.

"This damn collar of yours going to let me up?" he demanded.

She sighed. "It does wear off; eventually. I just don't know how long."

"Great." She saw his fingers clench with the effort to move. "You know, miko, I could hate you for this."

"I know, Inuyasha," she said. "But, I'd rather you hated me, as a hanyo, than be running around as a mindless, killer youkai."

"That's why I don't hate you," he replied. And then added, "Yet."

… … ...

Miyatsu warily watched the prone hanyo, ofuda ready for use, should Kikyo-sama's kotodama prove insufficient to subdue the hanyo's youkai blood.

Despite his wariness, Miyatsu could not also help feeling regret, that the boy should be humiliated by being flattened to the earth by a command from the woman he loved.

Surely, humiliation was a small price to pay for the hanyo to avoid becoming a monstrous, murderous beast. The humiliation was nothing in comparison with the foul, wicked treatment Inuyasha had suffered at the Tsubaki's hands.

He had never before met a hanyo. But, he had been taught that hanyo were the results of human weakness and youkai evil, and marked a soul's descent, not ascent. Better to painlessly quicken their passage to another life, than strive to help them find acceptance or peace in this life, for surely, those goals were impossible.

But that teaching, now that he had met a real hanyo felt … wrong. Yes, the hanyo—no, the young man—was suffering. Miyatsu could not forget what he had seen in those golden eyes, when Inuyasha had given the injured Kikyo into Miyatsu's arms: a mostly human soul, shadowed by its youkai blood, haunted and agonized by its recent past.

Maybe death would be better for Inuyasha, than living with the very real risk of becoming a mindless monster.

But, who was he, to decide? Was assuming one had that right, not the same path that led to such as Tsubaki?

Who had the right to decide?

… … ...

Inuyasha climbed slowly to his feet, fighting to control his anger, which would inevitably lead to another spike in his youki, and another slam to the ground by Kikyo's miserable collar.

He gave the miko a sour look, just to make sure she knew his opinion, and then rolled his shoulders and his neck, trying to work out the memory of being flat on his face.

"I'm finding Yukuuku and demanding to know what she did with the black pearl," he announced, glaring at the elk youkai and his passengers, daring them dispute with him.

"Sure," said Kaede, "but, you don't really have to threaten her, do you? I bet she doesn't know anything about what it is—she probably just happened to see it and pick it up.

""Can we go at a walk?" asked Kikyo. "I'm sure Cheiriyo can keep up with you, but I'm not sure I could stay on his back."

"Walking sounds good to me, as well," said Miyatsu with a thin smile. "I'm not as fast as you are."

"Feh. That's because you're just a human." With a decided jerk of his head, and slightly mollified at the monk's acknowledgement of his physical superiority, Inuyasha turned and started to walk towards the house.

He managed about three steps when an errant breeze whisked past his nose. He stopped short, and turned, squashing down a new surge of anger. He let enough of it out to roughen his voice and brighten the tips of his claws, as he cracked his knuckles.

"And just what are you doing out here?" he demanded, glaring at a clump of bushes. "Get out here, before I decide to see how close I can throw my claws without hitting you."

There was a muffled squawk. Moments later, a fox and Jaken came into view. The kitsune flowed into her two-footed form, and matched glares with the hanyo, her tail twitching. "I have as much right to know what's going on as anyone else, Inuyasha-sama," she declared. "Or, have you forgotten, that you almost killed me, and did kill a friend?"

"Kind of hard to forget, when I don't remember, now isn't it?" he retorted. "And I'm not some damn freak that you can watch every moment to keep from getting bored."

"Being bored as nothing to do with it!" she snapped. "I have a duty to my clan! Shinbuki died because of you! Maybe you didn't know you were doing it; maybe you were in that crazed youkai form and couldn't control yourself, but you still killed him! His brothers left without knowing the whole story: I don't want the clan setting out on revenge because they don't know the truth!"

"You think I'm afraid of a bunch of foxes?" he jeered. "They come after me, they're dead!"

"Is that what you want, Inuyasha-san: to kill because of a misunderstanding?"

Inuyasha spun to face Miyatsu. "Stay out of this, monk! It's none of your concern!"

Miyatsu raised his chin, and his dark eyes under his hat were cold. "I serve the Buddha. I see before me, the potential of much pain and suffering and death, for no better reason than misunderstanding and anger. If I stand aside, and refuse to speak, have I not aided that potential? It is my concern."

Inuyasha glared at him, temper simmering, not quite following what the monk was saying, and knowing he was getting nearer that point where he would lose control, and yet unwilling and unable to let go. Why couldn't they just let him be! To be watched, to be questioned on every movement—he hated it!

"Inuyasha," came Kaede's whispered voice. "You don't really want to kill Akeneka's people, do you?"

He whirled again and looked at her. Looked at her young face, with the patch, and the scar, and the single, sad eye. It was the patch that drew his gaze, for it reminded him that she already knew more about pain and death than most her age. She was the girl who wanted to be his 'little sister,' whom he had asked to be the voice that he could hear past the fire in his youkai blood.

Slowly, he walked over to the trio, trying to push aside his anger and to actually think about what she had asked. He had killed so often. Mostly youkai who attacked first, despising his mixed blood, falsely concluding that he was a weak target, prey, because of his blood. He had gloried in his strength, exulted in his victories—was that so bad?

Damn it.

Kaede's question cooled his temper, and with it, lowered the heat of the slavering, buzzing noise at the back of his head. He huffed and actually made himself think about it, though a with a cross, sulking thought about how unfair it was that he couldn't allow himself to be his normal, hot-tempered self.

He huffed again, resisting the temptation to go over to her and hope she might give think to scratch his ears, because there were entirely too many people watching. "No, I don't want to kill a bunch of stupid foxes," he said. Then, he looked away, hunching his shoulders, staring at the ground, his ears flagging down and back. "I never wanted to kill anybody," he added bitterly. "But, who gives me a choice? It's always see hanyo, try to kill hanyo, and I'm not gonna lie down and die for anyone. Now, come on." He started back up the slope, careful to keep his pace to a walk, shoving his hands into his sleeves so that his fingers could fidget without everyone seeing.

… … …

She had swept the two rooms and refolded the futon and blankets, and checked the jars, and the crocks, noticing with disapproval how much the throng had already taken. She brought in more wood from the pile outside, stacking it neatly, and then built the fire back up and set a kettle to heat water. With a sigh, Yukuuku sat back and thought about what would be happening, were this still a normal day. Her mistress would have vanished into her back room by now, unless she expected a visitor. Then, there would be items to move to the main room, placing them to Tsubaki's exacting demands. During the visits themselves, Yukuuku would retreat to the woods, waiting for her mistress' signal to return. The mistress would usually be all smiles when she came back in. More than once, she gave Yukuuku coins, asking her to travel to the nearby town to disguise herself and purchase items. And always, there were a few coins for Yukuuku herself, to spend as she wished.

Yukuuku thought of the small, precious pouch in her inner pocket, and sighed. She had never spent all the coins given her. She had always spent some, for that was what Tsubaki expected her to do. But, she had never wanted to spend them all. They were precious, a sign of Tsubaki's generosity and caring, as much as Tsubaki's rare smiles. She wanted to keep them, treasure them, knowing, even back then that if Tsubaki failed to achieve her goal, they would one day be all the tanuki had to remember her by.

And that day had come far, far sooner than Yukuuku had ever thought. Her mistress was dead. Dead…

The shoji slammed back. Startled, Yukuuku jumped, snapping her head up. The hanyo stood in the entrance, his ears flattened and his golden eyes glaring. Beside him was the monk, arm and staff extended, barring the hanyo's way.

"Let's wait for the others, Inuyasha-san," said Miyatsu. "No need to scare her."

She was already scared, shrinking under that malevolent gaze. She would have scrambled to her feet and fled, but instincts knew better. The predator watching her was fast and vicious, but not yet ready to pounce. Moving would provoke him.

The shoji connecting rooms behind her slid open, and two sets of feet pattered behind her. "Stop looking at her like that, Inuyasha-sama, you're scaring her," came the voice of the young kitsune. "I'm sure she'll tell you what you need to know."

What he needed to know? Yukuuku didn't move. The hanyo bared his fangs in a smirk, his eyes not shifting even a fraction.

The thump of wood on wood announced the arrival of the lame miko. The human child appeared beside the hanyo's unoccupied side, and boldly took hold of his hand. Yukuuku shuddered inside, wondering how the young mortal dared touch that dangerous being. But, the next moment, to her astonishment, the smirk and baleful gaze alike vanished. The hanyo looked down at the one-eyed child. She smiled and patted his hand. His ears twitched, and then moved forward, relaxing.

Miyatsu pulled back his staff and stepped inside. "Apologies if we startled you, Yukuuku-san," he said, with a smile meant to be reassuring. "But, Inuyasha discovered something that made it imperative to return here."

The hanyo muttered a faint 'keh,' and moved inside. Miyatsu seated himself beside Yukuuku without asking. The miko limped inside, the healer Cheiriyo hovering next to her. She took a position next to the hanyo who clearly had no interest in sitting.

"It appears we are all here," said Miyatsu cheerfully. "Inuyasha-san, do you want to explain the situation, or shall I?"

"Feh." The golden eyes were fastened on her again, intense, and the ears were starting to drift backwards again. Yukuuku tried not to shiver.

"Yukuuku-san." With an effort, she managed to break her gaze away from the hanyo and looked at Miyatsu. "I'm not sure how much you have picked up on why Inuyasha is here?" His raised eyebrow invited her to respond. She offered a wary shrug.

"He's looking for something. And he was human yesterday, and hanyo this morning."

Miyatsu nodded. "Inuyasha's youkai blood, inherited from his taiyoukai father, is too strong for his human blood," he said. "Knowing this would be the situation, his sire, before his death, caused an item to be created that would seal the blood, and spelled it to be hidden within his body.

""That item appears to have been lost during one of Inuyasha's escape attempts," Miyatsu continued. "Its loss weakened the seal on Inuyasha's blood. When Tsubaki struck Inuyasha with a death-blow, which apparently shattered the seal, and allowed his full youkai strength to come out, smothering the human and sane elements of his nature. He destroyed Tsubaki, and would have then slaughtered the villagers, save that Kikyo-sama sealed him with a sacred arrow."

Yukuuku nodded her understanding. She'd heard most of this before, but not in such succinct form.

"Kikyo-sama eventually removed the seal and subdued Inuyasha's youkai blood, but the effort was temporary. Inuyasha left us, to find a permanent solution to his problem. After meeting with Bokuseno—a wise, old tree that Inuyasha's father confided in—he learned of this object, and realized it must have been lost here. And so, Inuyasha returned to this place, and, this morning, has been searching the area where this item was believed to be lost."

"And didn't find it?" she asked warily, for surely the hanyo would not be so threatening if he had.

"No, because someone else found it and picked it up." She snapped her head back, and quailed at his glower. "You."

"Inuyasha." The monk's voice was a gentle reproof. A pat on her leg made her drag her attention away from the hanyo again. The monk smiled at her. "Yukuuku-san. While Inuyasha was here before, did you find something, during a walk? It would have been close to the river."

She realized what he must be talking about. "That?" she asked. "Well, yes, I found something—a little black ball. It's pretty, but how could that control someone's youkai blood? It's, well, it's just a pretty thing!"

"May I see it?" he asked. "Please?"

A part of her wanted to protest. She'd found it: it was hers! But, she was being glowered at by a menacing, dangerous hanyo, she was being watched by an entire room of people, several of who would know she lied, if she said she didn't have it. And the monk was smiling at her, so warm and friendly…

She sighed and reached for her pouch. Reaching inside, she searched for, and pulled out a small, gleaming black ball. Giving it a wistful look, she dropped it into the monk's waiting hand.

"Thank-you, Yukuuku-san," he said, somewhat absently. With his free hand, he drew a narrow piece of paper from inside his robe, and set it over the small sphere, his mouth moving with silent words.

The paper flashed and vanished, leaving behind a wisp of smoke. "Ouch," said the monk, wincing, letting the ball drop into his other hand. "Oh, yes. I would say this is your pearl, Inuyasha-san: the youki merged into this pearl is enormous. If it weren't masked and dormant, it would probably draw considerable attention. Here." He tossed the sphere to Inuyasha who snatched it out the air. Yukuuku gave a small sound and started to reach after it, and then pulled it away, knowing that she had lost. And it had been so pretty.

The hanyo raised the hand holding the pearl, his eyes closing. With everyone watching, he breathed deeply, once, twice.

And, then, his eyes snapped open. "It's not working!" he said with a note of panic. "Why isn't it working!"


	31. The Sword Decrepit

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 30: The Sword Decrepit**

Inuyasha tried not to panic. This was the item that he had smelled out in the woods. The monk had declared its power. So why wasn't it working? Why had the slavering buzz at the back of his head not been silenced? Shouldn't he feel something? Anything? What was he going to do now?

"It's not working, because it's not part of the actual seal."

Inuyasha looked around wildly, recognizing the voice. "Myoga! Where the hell have you been? What are you talking about?"

A sting at the base of his neck was answer enough. He slapped. "Oh!" protested the flattened flea, as his body went drifting down, leaf-like."How can you be so cruel, master? I haven't had a proper sip in so long!"

"Shut it, Myoga!" Inuyasha snapped, plucking the flattened flea in midair. Holding up the pearl, he balanced the tiny youkai on top of it. "Talk!"

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Myoga moaned and then popped out to his usual form. "Can't you let me have just a little more? You taste so good, and it was so awful last time!"

"No." Inuyasha raised the pearl to eye height, and gave the flea youkai a fierce glower. "Tell me what's going on."

"You're so cruel, Inuyasha-sama," said Myoga, sniffing and dabbling at his eyes with a tiny handkerchief. "I had to watch you turn human, and pray and wait and hope that your youkai blood wasn't gone forever, and then those foolish birds dove into the miko's barrier and threw me into a tree, and it took me forever and forever to wake up, and—"

"I don't want to hear it," Inuyasha said with a growl. "Tell me why the pearl isn't subduing my youkai blood."

Myoga gave him a reproachful look, and then tucked his handkerchief away, before moving to a seated position on the pearl. "It doesn't work, Inuyasha-sama, because it is not part of the seal. It holds the source of the seal, protecting it from those who would steal it from you, until you were old enough and strong enough to hold onto to it and use it."

"You're not making sense, Myoga," said Inuyasha, exasperated. "How can there be something I can use inside this thing! It's tiny!"

The flea sighed and looked down, crossing both his pairs of arms. "You do realize, Inuyasha-sama, that there are several people listening in on this conversation? Your father valued secrecy for a reason."

Inuyasha huffed, impatient. A thoughtful part of him would have tried to suggest the wisdom of Myoga's words, but his mind was more than half-filled with the buzzing of his blood, and he all he could really concentrate on was trying to find a way to make it stop. "Tell me!"

The flea sighed again. "So be it." He looked back up. "The pearl is a gateway, which can be used one time. It leads to the other world. It leads to your father's real tomb."

.. … …

Jaken had been listening with great intensity as soon as the flea started talking. Ever since Akeneka had mentioned the sword, he had somehow known that Tessaiga was what all this was really about. Sesshomaru-sama had spent so much time looking for the sword. He had also spent a fair amount of time tracking down his half-brother, insulting him, belittling him, knocking him down and beating him, and yet, for some reason, never actually killing him. The inu youkai had never explained himself. And yet, over the years, words, phrases, things he said to the hanyo while thrashing him: Jaken had kept all those pieces in memory, slowly piecing together the story.

Sesshomaru hated his half-brother, but at least as much because he was perceived as the cause of their mutual sire's death, as because of his mixed blood. Sesshomaru felt that his father had found his elder son imperfect, insufficient to his hopes and dreams. That his father had turned away from his full-blooded son for his ningen lover, and had spent prodigiously of his waning strength, not to prepare his son and true heir, but to protect short-lived clingers and parasites who did not deserve the protection the Inu no Taisho had given them: it clearly burned in Sesshomaru's mind. He felt that his father had demeaned him by leaving him with a worthless sword, the Tensaiga, while hiding away Tessaiga. Sesshomaru had wanted to prove that he was stronger than his sire, but his father's death had ended that goal. An angry, bitter Sesshomaru had decided that the only way to defeat his father was to find Tessaiga, and use it to extend his own personal power, so that everyone would be forced to acknowledge the son as superior.

So Jaken listened, with growing excitement, as Myoga explained the true purpose of the pearl. And as Myoga ended his explanation with the word 'tomb', his excitement overflowed.

"Yes!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "Yes! That's it! That's it!" He whirled to face Cheiriyo. "Healer, you have to call the silver hawks in, now! I must get word to Sesshomaru-sama quickly, before the panthers attack. I know where Tessaiga is! I know where it is!"

The expression Cheiriyo gave him was full of bewilderment. "Tessaiga? The old lord's first sword?" He blinked for a moment. "You're saying the sword is hidden in the Inu no Taisho's tomb?"

"Of course!" shouted Jaken, impatient at the youkai's mental slowness. "Where else could he hide it that Sesshomaru-sama could not eventually find? The sword, within the tomb, within the pearl, hidden in Inuyasha! The lord was cruel to deprive his son of the great sword, but now, we can change that, give Sesshomaru that greatness that belongs to him! Call in the silver hawks! You must call them in!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" shouted Myoga. "The sword was never intended for Sesshomaru! The Inu no Taisho knew Sesshomaru craved it: why do you think he went to such lengths to hide it? But, it does not belong to the elder son, it never did and never will! The lord forged it to protect the weak, to protect humans, to protect his younger son! Tessaiga belongs to Inuyasha, and with the original seal broken, he must set hand directly to Tessaiga, for the blade to work!"

"Nonsense!" shouted Jaken. "That hanyo is an insult to his father's royal race! Why should he receive anything, save the right to live, assuming he crawls to his brother and begs for mercy! He does not deserve the sword!"

"And why should Sesshomaru have it?" asked Myoga. "He already has it in him to surpass his father! You and he are fools, if you believe Tessaiga is needed for him to do that! It is Inuyasha who needs the sword, to protect him, to help him reach his full strength!"

"Strength, in a hanyo?" jeered Jaken. "Weakness, using Tessaiga as a crutch!"

"And what would Sesshomaru be doing with Tessaiga, but depending on his father's strength, instead of his own?"

"He would not! He would be adding to his strength! He would—yipe!"

The head of Miyatsu's s shinkajo slammed into the floor with a jangle of rings and a flash of reiki that startled both arguers into silence. "Might we mere mortals partake in this discussion?"

"My father … left me a sword?" whispered Inuyasha into the silence, looking just a bit dazed, a smile starting to appear on his face. "A real… sword?"

"Of course, Inuyasha-sama," said Myoga, turning around on top of the pearl. "A sword that will not only protect you from your blood, but will help you find the strength to protect those weaker than yourself."

"Sesshomaru-sama will take it from him," said Jaken. "Only Sesshomaru has the right to wield the sword of his father!"

"Sesshomaru will not be able to use Tessaiga,' retorted the flea. The Inu no Taisho made sure of that!"

"Hah! Impossible! Sesshomaru—"

"Should we not get to the business of retrieving the sword?" interrupted Miyatsu, tapping the circular ring of metal against the floor again. "How does the pearl work?"

Myoga gave a gusty sigh. "It's too soon, but I suppose there is no choice. We'll have to go outside, unless you want holes in the house."

… … …

All of them, save Yukuuku, went outside, walking some distance from the house. "So, what do I do?" asked Inuyasha, gripping the pearl tightly in his fist.

"Shouldn't we ask, first who should go?" asked Kikyo, sitting again on the youkai's back. "And is there much danger? I—should like to go, since I have the least harmful means of subduing Inuyasha's youki. But, I do not wish to be in the way…"

"And, I must confess, I do not wish to go," said Cheiriyo, bowing his horned head. "I have never wished to meddle in the affairs of the great…"

"I can carry Kikyo," said Miyatsu. "I will not miss this opportunity—to see the world that lies beyond this one…"

"It's not the human Nirvana," said Myoga, irritated. "This is a youkai place."

"All the better, Myoga," said Miyatsu. "We humans do not understand youkai well enough—should we not strive to learn more?"

"Why?" asked Inuyasha. "So you can figure out how to kill youkai more easily?"

Miyatsu gave him a pained look. "No." Then, he sighed. "Can I not simply wish to go, for the sake of learning something new?"

"A noble sentiment, houshi-sama," said Cheiriyo. "I have no desire to learn more about the world that contains but the remnants of the taiyoukai dead. I wish only to return to my fields and my mountains."

"I want to come, too," said Kaede.

"But, if it's dangerous…" Kikyo started to object.

"The world is inaccessible, save via something as powerful as Hosinki's pearl," said Myoga. "There should be little danger."

"Keh. You can ride my back, brat," offered Inuyasha. "Perfectly safe."

"That would be neat," she said, smiling.

"We're going, too."

Attention swung to the imp and the kitsune. Inuyasha growled. Jaken looked nervous, but Akeneka merely raised her chin and glared back at the hanyo. "Are we that much of a danger to you, Inuyasha, that you can't let us go? Are you afraid we'll see something we shouldn't? Something that might embarrass you?"

Inuyasha scowled at her, still growling, until Kaede touched his hand. Ears flat, he gave them a last glower, and then turned his back to them, refusing to answer. Instead, he looked at Myoga who had moved to the tip of one of Cheiriyo's horns. "So, how do I get this pearl to do its thing?" he asked.

"Ah, for that, Inuyasha-sama, a favor must be asked." He bounced over to the top of Inuyasha's head. "Cheiriyo-dono, can you summon your staff? The pearl must be struck with a staff of power."

"Would mine work?" asked Miyatsu, curious.

"No. It takes youki."

Cheiriyo sighed. "If the monk will give the miko-sama his promised support…"

"Of course." Miyatsu turned around and backed up to the elk youkai. Kikyo was sitting sideways on the broad back. "My lady miko?"

Four hands and a subtle lean and boost of youki from the elk transferred Kikyo to the monk's back. "I think we'll have to leave one of the staffs behind," Miyatsu said, shifting his hands slightly. "If you need to walk, my shakujou is sturdy enough."

"Thank-you, Miyatsu," she murmured. She shifted her own position minutely, and then grasped the shakujou from where it was leaning against Miyatsu's shoulder.

"Are we ready to go yet?" asked Inuyasha, having boosted Kaede to his back with much less effort.

"Patience, Inuyasha-sama," chided Myoga. "Cheiriyo-dono?"

The elk bowed his head, and then, within a swirling whirlwind of blue and green youki, transformed to his other form. In his hand, he grasped a staff just short of shoulder height. It appeared to be of wood, but vines and leaves spiraled around the core, glimmering with an inner light. Cheiriyo walked around to face Inuyasha. "If you will drop the pearl, Inuyasha-sama," he said politely, raising the staff.

Inuyasha hesitated a moment, meeting the youkai's gaze. Then, he extended his arm, rotated his hand, and opened his fist.

The pearl dropped to the ground, in a space bare of grass. Cheiriyo raised his staff a bit higher, and then brought it down.

The pearl glowed pink for several moments, and then flashed with light. White, translucent streamers of youki began to rotate in a vertical plane as Cheiriyo hastily backed away. They pulsed, and an utterly black hole appeared in the center of the streamers. It grew rapidly, a rotating circle with jagged edges, until it was several feet wide. It hovered, continuing to rotate, barely a foot above the ground.

"Go!" cried Myoga, clinging to Inuyasha's hair with four hands and two feet. "Go go go!"

Inuyasha leapt, followed closely by Miyatsu. Jaken and Akeneka hurried, and went into the passage together. Cheiriyo stepped back, and watched them disappear. His hands clasped together on his staff, and the healer prepared to wait, praying silently to all that gods, human and youkai alike that all would come back unharmed, and that Inuyasha would come back with the means to control his taiyoukai blood.

… … …

Kaede clung to Inuyasha's shoulders, her toes digging into the sash of his hakama, balancing high enough so she could see over his shoulder. She squeaked a little as they emerged from the starry tunnel into a point very high in the air. "Don't worry, little one," called out Myoga. "Quick, Inuyasha—land on one of the bone-birds!" There were half a dozen or more rising to meet them.

Inuyasha easily dropped onto one of the birds. Worried about her sister, Kaede twisted around in time to see Miyatsu land clumsily on one of the skeletons. It dipped under the sudden weight, its bill opening in a silent squawk. "Are you okay, sister? Miyatsu-sama?" she called out.

"Just let me— catch my breath," Miyatsu replied, wrapping his hands around a neck-bone and a rib bone. "Kikyo?"

"I'll manage." Kaede thought her sister's voice sounded shaky. "Assuming one bird can carry us both."

"'Course they can," yelled Inuyasha.

A flick of feathers caught Kaede's attention, and she looked up. "Oh, wow!" she exclaimed, spotting Jaken on an oversized owl. "Is that you, Akeneka— the bird?"

"Of course it is, you stupid human!" yelled Jaken. He then yelped as Akeneka banked sharply.

"Don't call Kaede-kun names, Jaken," said the bird in Akeneka's voice. "She's a very nice child."

"Nice?" Kaede heard Inuyasha mutter under his breath. "You up to something, brat?"

She turned her attention forward, hitching herself a bit higher. "Nope," she whispered. "Just being a friendly little girl."

"Yeah, right. Hey, Myoga—is that what I think it is?"

Kaede peered down and gasped. It was hard to judge size, being way up in the sky like this, but if those were trees at its base, it was huge!

"That is, indeed, the remains of your sire Inuyasha-sama," said the flea. "Free from all spells, it is his true form."

... ... ...

Settled onto the back of the very strange bird, Kikyo had to move sideways to see past Miyatsu's taller form. Like her sister, she gasped when she saw the gigantic skeleton nestled among the bare, cone-shaped hills. "That's Inuyasha's father?" she called. "It's so huge!"

"Size is rather more variable among youkai-kind," replied Miyatsu, but his voice sounded shaken. "But if size correlates with power—no wonder Inuyasha needs a seal on his youkai side! That beast looks as if he could have shrugged off everything we could throw at him, in life, and I wouldn't have thought there was a youkai that could stand up to the both of us!"

"And yet, he fell in love with a mortal woman. And died, to protect her and their son." Kikyo felt a sense of wonder. Though only a decaying skeleton, the massive set of bones, partially encased in armor, screamed of the power, and menace it had once contained. The massive dog-skull, with its open jaws, could have easily bitten down and swallowed the largest animal Kikyo had ever seen. And yet, what power the skeleton had in life, it was broken. The menace of the open jaws was marred by the missing fang. Broken off in life, or death? she wondered.

"Makes you wonder what else about youkai goes on, that we don't know," said Miyatsu. "Do they have an entire different society from ours? And why get involved with us, if they do?"

The gray-winged owl who had been flying between them and Inuyasha suddenly cupped her wings and dove. "Now, what is that fox up to?" wondered Miyatsu.

"It's probably Jaken," suggested Kikyo, watching the owl and her rider. "You remember how he was going on about his master. He probably wants to steal the sword."

Miyatsu snorted. "He's a dead fool, if he tries. Inuyasha nearly transformed over someone else having the pearl. If he sees Jaken getting the sword, I don't think your rosary will do one bit of good!"

Kikyo shivered. "Gods, no. We've got to stop him—can you make this bird go faster?"

"Let's hope— bird, follow that owl!"

… … …

Inuyasha spotted the owl diving, and his rage—and youki—flared in instant response. "Damn that Jaken! He's not getting the sword! After them!"

The bird swooped into a dive and followed. But, the owl rapidly drew ahead. "Go faster, bird! Faster!"

The bird's beak opened and closed several times in silent caws, but it was still losing ground. "Shit!" Inuyasha felt his youki rising, and ground his teeth. He tried to push it back. But, the thought of losing the sword; of losing what was clearly his only chance of keeping his blood under control: the thought of losing it to Jaken, of all people, was maddening. He was angry. He was afraid. Somewhere ahead was salvation. And his brother's ugly, condescending, inconsequential vassal wanted to take it away—

"Hey." Arms wrapped around his neck, and a face pressed against the side of his head. "He won't steal it. Your father knew how much your brother wanted this sword, I bet. If he were smart enough to know about your blood, about how to seal it, about how to hide the sword itself; wouldn't he have maybe put a spell or something on the blade itself, so that only you could draw it?"

The touch and the words cooled the fire. Inuyasha closed his eyes, and then opened them again, without the red haze on his vision. "Thanks, Kaede," he said, aiming a mental slap at his temper and the buzz in his head. Shut it! "Hey, jiji!" he called out to the flea. "Does the brat have a point?"

"Oh, undoubtedly, Inuyasha-sama," said Myoga. "Your father was the most sagacious, clever, thoughtful taiyoukai ever to walk the world, and knew your brother well. Tessaiga will soon be in your hands. I am confident of it."

"Better be," muttered Inuyasha, watching the distance between him and the owl increase. To distract his temper, he let his gaze focus back on the giant skeleton. As he had often done as a youngster, he felt the yearning, the desire, to see his father in the flesh, and felt the hurt of knowing it could never be. This was his father, or rather, it was his bones. But, what mattered the bones? They were not his father. They had no eyes, no mind, no heart; they had no lips to speak nor hands to touch. There was no 'father' here to see him, talk to him, smile at him, tell him how proud he was. Or even, to say what a bad boy he'd been, and how he must be better.

What was a sword, against that lack? What was all the power in the world, without a father to look up to, to learn from? To love and be loved by?

Inuyasha swallowed a lump in his throat, and barely noticed the quieter buzz.

… … …

Akeneka flew with all her skill and speed, grateful that Cheiriyo had done such a masterful job in healing her shattered hand and arm. She ignored the constant, shrill exhortations to keep going faster. She was already doing her best, and steadily drawing ahead of those weird birds, so what more could Jaken ask for? He should be grateful, that she had practiced this form so much.

She loved to fly. Had loved it, since her first attempt to mimic a bird had given her 'feathers' sticking out in all directions, and a trip off a tree branch that was more fall than glide. If her father hadn't caught her: but, he had, and he had laughed and praised his little kit for trying, before cautioning her to start from the ground, and start with something simpler.

Why hadn't the kami caused her to be born among one of the bird clans, she sometimes wondered. Though, on the other side, she loved being a fox, having a keen nose, and swift, silent feet, and the ability to curl up and sleep in a deep, dark den. She loved her kitsune form, and the ability to shape her paws into hands, and do clever things with those hands, which could never be done with paws or teeth, or beak and wings. Maybe it was best, that she was born kitsune. Shape-shifter, able to take many forms, not just one or two.

Looking ahead at the fierce jaws that were her goal, Akeneka wondered just what she thought she was doing. She didn't really think that Jaken had any chance of getting away with this 'Tessaiga', even if they found it first. With that half-mad hanyo behind them? Speed and flight were going to be the only thing that saved them, if the humans didn't keep him under control.

But, the hanyo had annoyed her. He didn't seem to understand that she had been hanging around as much for his sake, as the clan's. Didn't he want the truth about his actions to be told to her people, not the wild tales the brothers would undoubtedly spin? But, when she had warned him about her clan, he had only responded with a threat to kill them. Maybe he had relented a bit on his threat, but only because the humans had reacted unfavorably. Not because he was wrong, or because he felt he owed her anything. She didn't matter to him.

Well, if he didn't understand, so be it. She was kitsune, and that meant trickster. And wouldn't it be a grand trick to play on the stupid hanyo, to steal his inheritance? Oh, not permanently: she didn't want him to go mad, and she surely didn't need the sword. Nor did she care to do anything to draw the attention of Jaken's master. But, teach him that he needed to respect kitsune-kind, and play a trick that she could boast about...

It was worth the risk.

… … …

"In, in, in!" urged Jaken, though he cringed as they swept between the fangs. So huge! He had seen Sesshomaru take his true form several times, and it was not near this size! No wonder his master wanted the sword, to add its strength to his own. And to think, that he, Jaken, would be the one to bring him that sword!

How pleased his master would be with him!

"Go down!" he shouted, as they reached the back of the jaws. "Go down!" The owl tilted in her flight, more gradually than she had that time she'd almost whipped him off her back, just for insulting that little human girl. Not that he understood why she'd done that, or cared, really. She was doing what he wanted. He would have to make sure his master knew her. Not that Sesshomaru would ever show appreciation for her efforts, or anything like that. But, he thought his master should at least know who his enemies weren't. .

They spiraled down the neck into the torso, down into the seemingly endless depths. It grew dark, and Jaken felt nervous, wondering if there would be light where they were going, or if they would end up crashing into whatever passed for 'ground'. But, then the light grew again, and Jaken breathed a quarter-sigh of relief, only to tremble as he saw the carpet of skulls. Did those skulls represent all the beings the dog had destroyed during his lifetime? He shuddered, and hoped that his skull would not end up in that huge layer. But, then, his eyes caught the gleam of gold, and he saw the elaborate scrollwork, the platform, and the slender length of a blade.

"There!" he cried, pointing. "There it is! Fly there! Fly there!"

The owl let out a hoot and banked, broadening the spiral, extending it over the spot near the backbone where the sword stood. Jaken clung to her feathers with growing excitement. Here! It was here! The sword his master desired and deserved, and he, Jaken, was the first to reach it! He could see himself now, bowing before his Sesshomaru, holding out the sword. His master would take it, and then, Sesshomaru would smile—

His fantasy was broken as the owl started back-winging. He yelped and clung as she extended her legs, wide wings flaring. Then, she was down, and he lost his grip as she transformed.

"This is the sword your master wants?" she said moments later. "It's a piece of junk!"

… … …

Akeneka stared at the sword standing erect on the golden plinth, stunned. She had assumed that any sword forged for one of the greatest taiyoukai ever to live would be a blade of massive, glimmering power. A blade that would be as handsome as a sword could be, approaching perfection, with a gleaming, razor edge, and a finely-tooled hilt. It should boast of itself, blaze with its promise, and its threat.

But, this? 'Tessaiga' appeared to be a rusty blade, pitted along its length, with a hilt wrapped with dull leather falling apart. This was the blade that the taiyoukai's son desired? That would protect the hanyo son from himself?

It was ridiculous!

"Of-of course it's the blade!" said Jaken, picking himself up. "The great Tessaiga! The blade that can kill a hundred with one sweep!"

"It doesn't look as if it could slice an overripe peach," she snapped. "Is this all a trick?"

"It can't be!" Jaken stared at it, not approaching. "But, maybe it's disguised! Pull it out, then it may reveal its true form!"

"You're the one who wants to steal it," Akeneka noted. "You pull it out."

"I'm too short!" he squawked. "You have to pull out the sword!"

And put her scent on it? Akeneka swooped down and picked up the short youkai, ignoring his squawk. "Now, you're not too short," she said, holding him up within easy reach of the hilt. "You pull it."

"Oh, ah, yes!" He squirmed, threw his own staff behind them, and then reached for the blade with both hands. "For my master!"

Two tiny, clawed hands wrapped themselves around the hilt. For a mere fraction of a second. And, then, golden lightning flashed up the blade and hilt, and boiled through the bridging hands and enveloped their forms. They screamed, convulsing. The lightning snapped the tiny hands off the hilt, and they were thrown backwards off the plinth. The screaming stopped. Fox and imp fell to the carpet of skulls. And they did not move.

… … …

The darkness flared with light, and Inuyasha's ears heard screams. "Did I hear something?" asked Kaede, still clinging to him.

"I think those two youkai ran into something they didn't expect," Inuyasha replied with a sense of satisfaction. He would beat the crud out of both of them, but their screams surely signaled their failure in their obvious intent to steal his sword.

The bone bird swerved suddenly, breaking from its downward spiral, lifting its head as it silently cawed. "No, damn it!" snarled Inuyasha. "Go down, bird!"

It paid him no attention, starting to rise. "Shit!" Inuyasha peered through the gloom, spotting the ribs. "Hang on, you two!" he yelled, shifting to a squat. "We're getting off!"

He felt the arms tighten around him, and felt a tiny tug on his hair. "Hold on!"

Inuyasha jumped. Arching through the air, he landed on one of the ribs, feet on one, his hands on the next. He peered down, noting the distant, golden glow. "More jumps," he called out. "You okay back there, brat?"

"I'm fine!" she assured him.

Inuyasha jumped, dropping down the ribs, trying not to think just how weird the situation was. Reminding himself to be wary of whatever had taken out the two youkai, he made his way down some distance from the golden glow, which gradually turned into some sort of decorative platform, with what looked to be an old, rusty sword sticking out the middle. He felt disappointed, as he landed onto the layer of skulls. Was that his goal? A decrepit sword?

"Ew, yuck!" exclaimed Kaede. "Skulls?"

"Feh. What do you expect? We're in a weird graveyard."

"Never mind the skulls!" snapped Myoga. "There! On the plinth! Tessaiga!"

"That?" Inuyasha eyed the plinth and the sword, and sniffed. He smelled singed fox and singed imp, ozone, and a general impression of decay. Oh, and rusty steel. "That's a youkai blade? It's a piece of junk!"

"No, no, no! It is the Tessaiga!" insisted the flea, dancing on top of his head. "That's merely its appearance! Pull it out! You'll see! You'll see!"

Inuyasha sighed, trying not to feel disappointed. "If you say so." He walked towards the plinth, sniffing for danger, but feeling increasingly let down. Why would his father create a sword that looked so—worn out and dull? How could that decrepit sword do anything?

"Inuyasha!" The yell was faint, from above. "The bird won't go down any further! Inuyasha, can you hear us?"

He looked up, recognizing the voice. "Feh," he groused. "Should have realized, when our bird wouldn't go any further." Jumping next to the plinth, he turned his back. "Here. Sit here, don't touch anything. I'll be right back."

… … …

Kaede watched Inuyasha zigzagging up the ribs until he vanished in the dimness. Turning around, she eyed the sword, noticing that it looked like an old sword that'd been left in the rain. Carefully skirting around it, she peered about, looking for the two youkai.

They were on the far side of the plinth. Akeneka had transformed to her true form, and was lying limply on her side. The imp hadn't changed appearance, but he was lying sprawled on his back, his hat entirely elsewhere, his palms clearly burned.

The girl closed her eye for a moment, to better concentrate on her miko senses. She thought she could feel their youkai. Opening her eye, she looked down at them. "I don't think you're dead," she murmured. She considered climbing down from the plinth and checking on them, but her toes wriggled as she looked at the skulls she would have to walk on. Oh, ick.

Since she was pretty sure the two youkai were alive, and there wasn't anything she could do to help them anyway, Kaede resolutely turned her back on them. She moved closer to the sword, carefully keeping her hands behind her back. A close-up view was no more impressive than the distant one. "You look as if you would break, if anyone tried to use it," she mused aloud. "You don't look like something that's call 'iron crushing fang.'" Drawing closer, she started to circle it. No angle gave any better impression. And yet…

"I feel something," she whispered. "I—you can't be what you seem. All the way down here? In the belly of a dead taiyoukai?" She continued to sidle around it. "You have to be this 'Tessaiga.' You have to be what Inuyasha needs, to seal his blood again." She felt an ache, and wished fiercely that she was older and wiser and able to help. "He needs you," she whispered. "I'd help him, if I could, but all I can do to protect him is talk to him. But, it's not enough. He needs—"

She paused, in speech and movement. Did she see a quiver in the blade? Did she really feel a sudden wash of warmth from its surface?

She was imagining things. She had to be.

And, yet, it was almost as if she would hear a very faint whisper.

_What do you want?_

"I want to protect him," she whispered, blinking back a tear at the painful thought of Inuyasha turning youkai, of losing everything in himself that mattered to her. "I want to protect Inuyasha."

The sword quivered. _Take me._

She had to be imagining things. "I'm not supposed to," she told the blade. "Inuyasha told me not touch anything."

A faint shimmer of palest gold traveled up the blade, then back down._ Take me._

Kaede edged closer, barely a hand width away, the sword becoming all there was in her sight. It seemed to quiver again.

I'm going crazy; she thought to herself. But, the pain and desire, were still there. What would she do for Inuyasha, if she could, if she could protect him from his unbound self?

"Anything."

_Take me._

This close, she could feel warmth radiating from it.

_Take me._

… … ...

"I'm coming!" Inuyasha shouted as Miyatsu called again. Impatient monk, he added silently.

Zigzagging upwards through the gloom, he soon spotted them, as the bird circled horizontally, refusing to go down. Pausing at a point above them, Inuyasha eyed the bone-bird. There wasn't much room left, and who knew how much weight the birds could carry before they plummeted. "Oy, monk!" he yelled. "Over here! See whether you can get the stupid bird over here!"

The bird immediately shifted direction and headed at him. It came to a hover; one wing half folded against the rib. Getting to his feet, Miyatsu carefully tested his balance, and then jumped for the rib. Inuyasha grabbed him and pulled him in close, and then leapt lightly onto the bird's back. With a smooth move, he snatched the bow and the staff out of her hand, tossing them behind him. "Inuyasha!" Kikyo exclaimed, and Miyatsu yelped, and grabbed.

"They're in the way," he explained, scooping her up in front of him. "Hold on!"

"Inuyasha!" roared Miyatsu behind him.

"Something wrong with your legs, monk?" Inuyasha called back, striking a rib with his foot, falling to the next, dropping in what was essentially a controlled fall. Dropping the last length, he twisted so his back was to the body, his knees going nearly to the skull-carpet, as he absorbed his momentum.

"Why did you leave Miyatsu up there?" Kikyo asked, as he straightened.

Inuyasha peered down at her face and smirked. "Hey, he can climb, can't he? Do 'im good. Keep him from becoming one of those fat monks who drink too much."

She hit him with her fist. "But you made him take the bow and the staff! His hands are full! He's can't do what you just did!"

"So? He can always drop 'em," he pointed out.

"Oh, thank-you very much," she snapped. "That's a brand new bow. You want me to replace it again, in less than a month?"

Her very real annoyance surprised him. Inuyasha's ears drooped, as he felt vaguely ashamed. "Sorry," he said. "I... um … could get you a new one?"

She sighed, her expression softening. "Just think a little bit, next time, okay?" she chided him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You could have let me carry them, or put the bow over your shoulder."

He had just wanted to get her down as quickly as possible. "Sorry," he mumbled again.

"Never mind. Where's my sister?" She gave him a tart look, which told him she wasn't finished being angry with him. "You didn't drop her, I hope?"

"Of course not!" he spluttered. "I left her safe and sound on that golden 'plinth' thingy, and told her not to touch anything!" He swung around. "Look, there she—what the hell?"

Inuyasha stared, his mouth dropping open, his ears freezing in full-forward position. Standing on the plinth, facing them, Kaede blushed. "Um, hi, ane-sama, Inuyasha. Um… this belongs to you."

She held out the battered sword with both hands.

… … …

She felt Inuyasha going rigid. Kikyo stared at Kaede, puzzled. "Kaede? What are you holding?"

"It's Tessaiga—I think," Kaede said. "I know it looks all beat up and old, but, I really don't think it is. I—it was sticking up from the—um—stone here. Inuyasha told me not to touch anything, when he went up to rescue you, but I was walking around it, and thinking about how I hoped it was really Tessaiga, and how much Inuyasha needed it, and how I wished I could do more for Inuyasha than just talk to him, if only I could protect him, and, and, well, it-it felt like the sword was saying 'take me.' It was all warm, and quivering, and I know Inuyasha told me not to touch anything, but Tessaiga wanted, it wanted…"

"That was very dangerous, Kaede," Kikyo said slowly, part of her shrinking in horror at the thought of her sister touching a dangerous youkai object like a sword. "It could have—hurt you."

"I know." Kaede looked about as embarrassed as Kikyo could ever recall seeing, and yet she kept her gaze up. "And I think it did hurt Akeneka and Jaken—they're on the other side, unconscious, and Jaken's hands are burnt. But, I … I just knew that it wanted me to pull it out, and give it to Inuyasha. It came out really easy."

Kikyo felt a bit stunned. Her sister, standing with a powerful sword, which talked to her? A sword that knocked out a pair of youkai, and then practically gave itself to a little girl? It seemed impossible.

And Inuyasha apparently felt the same way.

She stole a glance up at his face, and suddenly, Kikyo had to repress an urge to laugh, as she realized how it must be for the hanyo. What had he imagined, of how he would find his father's sword? Visions of grandeur, no doubt: images of himself locating the sword after some desperate battle, holding it aloft, some great, gleaming, perfect sword.

Not handed a battered, decrepit looking thing by a little girl?

Oh, poor Inuyasha!

Doing her best to suppress her mirth, Kikyo reached up and patted his cheek. "Inuyasha? Inuyasha!"

He started, snapping his head down to stare at her. "Set me down, please?" she asked, smiling just a little. "And, then, you'll want to take your sword, and see whether it does calm your blood?"

He stared at her for a moment, glanced at Kaede, then back to her. His ears sank so low that she thought they must surely hurt, and he had the most woebegone expression she had ever seen on his face.

"Why did it come to her?" he asked, his voice a whine."It's supposed to come to me; I was supposed to pull it out."

She hit him, but gently. "Silly boy. Does it really matter? It may be the way your father set the spells. It's yours, Kaede says that. So set me down, and take your sword."

Still looking chagrined, Inuyasha carefully set her down on the plinth. She shifted, pulling her good leg up so she could see the handover. Inuyasha gave her a final, sour look, and then sighed. "Okay." She smiled encouragingly. He half-returned her smile, his ears relaxing to their normal. He rolled his eyes up.

"Oy, Myoga-jiji, you still there?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell me the old man had a sense of humor? Making it so I have to take my sword from the hands of a little girl? Uh, no offense, Kaede-kun."

She giggled. "None taken."

"Ah, humor?" responded the flea. Well, I don't really know. I wasn't exactly part of all his plans, you understand. But, of course, he would take steps to make sure the wrong hands wouldn't get Tessaiga. And—"

"Ah, shut up," Inuyasha huffed and turned to face Kaede. "Oy, brat…"

"Kaede."

"Kaede-brat."

Kikyo smiled, watching. Odd as the situation was, it still felt so perfect. Her sister, brave and trusting whom Inuyasha listened to: the voice that had reached calmed his mood several times that day: this was right. The object that would reseal his blood handed to him from the one who had done as much as anyone to get him to now—

… … …

Akeneka hurt all over. Panting, she rolled onto her belly, then felt surprise that she was in her fox form. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was lying on a pile of skulls. What? Skulls? Memory filtered back. The black pearl. A tunnel filled with stars, ending in a strange world, with a mountainous inu skeleton. The flight in her owl form. The sword, its tip sunken into a circular base that appeared to be solid gold. Lifting Jaken so he could pull the sword out. And then—

Ow. One shaky leg at a time, Akeneka stood up. Stupid Jaken, she thought, looking for the imp. They should have guessed that the Inu no Taisho would have placed a barrier on his sword. If he wanted only his hanyo son to wield it, then it made sense that there would be a barrier that would only allow the hanyo to touch it.

They had been thrown against the 'back' of the skeleton, behind the plinth. Akeneka looked over the platform, and blinked when she saw the little girl holding the sword. How in the world? A barrier that prevented youkai from touching, allowed the hand of a human girl? Or did being a miko—even untrained—make that much difference? But, why?

The sound of rattling bone attracted her attention. Leaning heavily on his staff, Jaken was glaring at the platform, his expression twisted in hatred, even malevolence. Straightening, his bill agape as he panted, he started the raise the staff in both hands, though it was clear he could barely stand. A dark liquid stained the staff beneath his hands, and he was hissing something under his breath. "Sess … sho … maru … for … Sess … sho … ma … ru…

Akeneka glanced back at the golden platform, and felt her belly clench. Surely not. He couldn't be planning something like that—

A word, more sensed that heard. "Die…"

… … …

It was awkward, climbing down. His staff and Kikyo's bow were through the cords holding his koromo at the waist. And how awkward it had been, to pull his kesa out of the way sufficiently to get the two items through the cords. And, then, the climb down, one rib-bone at a time, trying to keep himself balanced, as he moved his hands from one drop to the next.

Maybe if he'd ever trained for mountain-climbing, it wouldn't be as much of a challenge.

Panting, he paused to look down. He could see the plinth clearly, and Kikyo's little sister holding a battered sword. Wondering how she had managed to end up with a sword, he watched Inuyasha set Kikyo down. They exchanged a few words, too low for him to pick up, and then the hanyo turned to face the girl. She held out the sword with both hands—

Motion caught his eye; a small figure tottering out of shadows holding a staff filled with power. A figure entirely out of the vision of the girl and woman, and in the peripheral vision, at best, of the hanyo. A staff being raised, with an aura of unthinking rage.

"Look out!" he screamed, helpless to do more than shout a warning that was surely too late, for fire was already exploding outward from the staff, enough to burn to dust everything in its path.

He saw that day, and never forgot, the smallest example of youkai speed. Or, rather, he saw two blurs. One was reddish-brown, moving from the side. The other was white and red. In a split moment, Kikyo went spilling off the platform in one direction, while Kaede went sailing off in another, the sword somehow still in her hands. The red streak disappeared into the flame, even as the red-brown streak reached the source.

The next moment, the staff was burning a spiral path through the air as it spun. Somehow, by the grace of the Buddha, it failed to hit anything or any one of importance. The red-brown blur also went whirling through the air, bleeding from slashes, but the monk barely noticed that, as he felt the powerful pulse of youki.

He blanched. The red and white figure stepped off something, paused, and growled, its short, white hair dancing in an invisible breeze. It turned.

And looked directly at the sprawled figure of the small, one-eyed girl.


	32. Tessaiga

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Blood Unbound Chapter 31: Tessaiga**

It hurt to land on bone, even if it did roll underneath you. Shaken and breathless, Kaede stared upward into the formless darkness, wondering what she was doing on her back. She'd been about to hand the sword to Inuyasha, and then, there had been a shout from above, and she'd found herself flying. Inuyasha had shoved or thrown her. Why?

A low, guttural growl froze her gut. Oh, no.

She sat up on one elbow, grabbing the sword before it could slide off her chest. She looked.

A feral, red-eyed Inuyasha looked back. An Inuyasha with his ragged, shoulder-length hair shifting about his head. An Inuyasha with fangs that jutted halfway down to his chin. An Inuyasha with vivid, jagged streaks on his cheeks. And, she noted, as he cracked his knuckles, claws half the length of his fingers.

Youkai Inuyasha.

She swallowed.

She could be dead in a moment, unless her sister shouted her command, or the monk managed to toss some ofuda.

She could be dead in a moment, whether they acted or not.

She didn't want to die.

She really didn't want to die at Inuyasha's hands.

It would be horrible for him. He would never forgive himself.

Why was he still standing there?

Kaede realized two things. She had the sword that could seal his blood. And Inuyasha must be fighting his youkai.

She had a chance.

They had a chance.

"Inuyasha." Kaede spoke softly, gently, trying to keep any tremor of fear out of her voice.

He started, ears flicking forward. He sniffed audibly, growled a little, took a single step, and then froze.

She moved, very slowly, never taking her eyes off his face. Wasn't there something one of Kikyo's teachers had said at the temple? Oh yes: _"Never run from anything youkai. It attracts their attention."_

She wouldn't run.

"I am Kaede," she whispered quietly, gently, as she eased herself to her knees. "Friend."

Another small growl. His ears flattened, then pricked. He tossed his head and shook it.

"Inuyasha."

She brought a foot forward. Slowly, very slowly, she stood up. "You know who I am."

"I'm Kaede. Your friend—your—'little sister.'"

He took another step, and then shook his head again. Kaede waited until his eyes refastened on her, and then, very slowly, put her free hand on the sword. She felt its warmth. She lifted it. It was heavy, but she refused to think about that.

"This is Tessaiga, Inuyasha. Your father's sword. You want it. It will give you what you want."

Hungry red eyes watched her. Slowly, very slowly, Kaede moved the sword to a vertical position. Carefully, gently, she worked the tip of the blade down through the layer of skulls, until she sensed that it would stand upright. Not for one moment, did she look away from the daunting, glaring, maddened eyes.

Very slowly, she slid her hands from the blade. It stood upright. "Your sword, Inuyasha. Tessaiga. Your sword. You want it. Come." Very carefully, very slowly, she took one step back.

Inuyasha took a jump forward. Kaede ordered her heart not to race. "Yours, Inuyasha," she said quietly, softly. "Tessaiga is yours. Yours." She took another step back.

He jolted another step forward. Panting, growling, he reached out a shaking hand. Pulled it back. Extended it. Kaede saw his struggle, and felt sad, instead of afraid.

"Come," she said gently. "Inuyasha. Take your sword. Take Tessaiga. It is yours. You want it. Come. Take it."

He lunged forward. Her eyes closed involuntarily, frozen in a moment of time…

… … …

Kaede opened her eyes, when nothing happened. Less than his length from her, Inuyasha stood, hands clenched about Tessaiga's hilt, shaking in every limb, sweat pouring down his face. She breathed in, but even with her limited, immature miko senses, she could feel the youki draining out of his body. The sword shivered once, twice, thrice. Inuyasha went to his knees with a sob, and his cheeks were colorless, his fangs short, and the claws on his hands at normal length. And when he looked up, his tear-stained eyes were gold.

… ... ...

The screens had been pulled back. The fog had lifted. A cool wind had blown through his overheated mind.

Words could not describe everything he felt when his hands went around Tessaiga's ragged hilt. The fire, the yearning for blood and death, the haze over his thoughts and memories, the sense of profound imbalance: it was all gone. He was himself again, as he had not been in days? Moons?

Inuyasha opened his eyes. Standing just a little bit away, Kaede watched him with a wide, anxious eye. He smiled at her, feeling a deep joy, and something else. He knew that with her scarred face, no one was ever apt to call her beautiful. But, at that moment, one-eyed, dark hair snarled by wind, wearing a somewhat ragged kimono, she was the most beautiful person in the world. She had helped to save him, her fearlessness, her stubborn, insistent voice, pushing through the haze that had clouded his mind.

"Little sister."

She beamed. "It works!"

"Keh. It sure does!" A rare grin flashed across his face. "Come here, you." Releasing his left hand, he held it out. She leaped happily into his embrace, flinging her arms around his neck. He squeezed her, careful not to do it too hard, reveling in the feel of her arms, of the warmth of her body, the brightness of her aura. This, he knew, was what he had really wanted all these years, when he was looking for a way to become more powerful, to become youkai.

Acceptance.

Friendship.

The feeling was too good to last, naturally. When he stood up and turned around, holding Kaede, the universe returned to something closer to normal. That is, problems.

A fox was sprawled in one place, the imp in another. Miyatsu was just letting himself drop the last few feet to the skull carpet, while Kikyo was trying to sit up. Miyatsu lost his balance and went down to all fours. Inuyasha swore.

"Kikyo will like it if you can learn to swear less," Kaede commented, then continued. "What did happen? I thought you were going to take the blade, and then I'm on my back, and when I sit up, you're youkai."

Inuyasha sighed, as the very clear memories returned. "Jaken happened. I guess he woke up, saw what you were doing, and snapped. He would burn you with that staff of his. He's usually a coward, but…" He shrugged. "I heard Miyatsu shout and saw Jaken. I shoved you and Kikyo off the gold platform thing, and then leaped for the staff, using my sleeve to shield my face. I grabbed it just below the heads. Akeneka must have jumped, too, because I remember seeing a fox with her jaws around the middle of the staff. I wasn't exactly thinking by then, I pulled away the staff and threw it, and only then noticed her still holding on. I—I remember the blood wanting me to go after her, and tear her apart, but then … I felt something else. That's when I turned and saw you."

"You were youkai. But, it looked as though you were fighting it."

Inuyasha was silent for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "The-the bliss, it was almost overwhelming. Give into it, and I'd never be afraid, or hurt, again. But, I could—feel something else. Calling to me. It—wasn't promising anything like the bliss, but—I knew I wanted it. But, I had to fight off that other part of me. And I almost didn't manage."

"But, you did manage, Inuyasha," she said. "And you're safe now, right?"

"As long as he keeps hold of the sword." Myoga bounced up from one of the skulls and landed on Inuyasha's nose. "Hear me, Inuyasha! You must always keep a hold of the sword! The sword holds the bond on your blood, but it must be in your possession, always!"

Inuyasha tried to glower at him, going cross-eyed in the effort. "Yeah, I kind of figured that out, jiji." There was a giggle, and he saw Kaede pluck the flea off his nose. "Thanks." He gave the flea a proper glare. "But, you know that still leaves a couple of questions. First, does this thing have a scabbard? I don't—"

Tessaiga vibrated, hard. Inuyasha looked down at it, then caught motion from the corner of his eye. A long thin, brown object finished emerging out of the filigree at the back of the plinth, and flew at him. Inuyasha raised the sword to level height, and the scabbard neatly sheathed itself around the rusty blade.

"Wow," said Kaede. "A magic scabbard, as well as a magic sword?"

Inuyasha took a confirming sniff. "And made from Bokuseno's wood."

"Branch, actually." Myoga supplied the additional information.

"Whatever." Inuyasha carried Kaede over to the plinth and set her down, noticing—with a frisson of annoyance—that Miyatsu was already hovering over Kikyo. With a disgruntled sigh, Inuyasha decided that he should check on the youkai. Carefully, he slid the blade through the ties of his hakama. He released his grip on the hilt with just a little bit of apprehension, given Myoga's words, but he felt nothing. Relieved that he apparently would not have to hold the sword constantly, Inuyasha turned his attention to the others.

Jaken was out cold, his hands bloody, and with evidence of having being stepped on. Inuyasha reminded himself that Jaken was frequently stepped on by his brother, and that he would not worry about the health of the youki who had threatened his 'little sister.' He dropped the imp onto the plinth, where the others could check him out, if they wished, and then went to gather the fox and Jaken's scattered belongings.

He felt Myoga land on his head, as he gently laid the kitsune on the platform. "So, what was the second question, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha set Jaken's hat on his midsection, and then absently checked to make sure the wretched staff was still secured through the back ties of his hakama. "What do you think, jiji?" he asked, jumping over to join the humans. Kikyo was rubbing her head. "You okay, Kikyo?" he asked anxiously.

She glanced at him, and gave him a short smile. "I'll be fine."

"Good." He pulled Tessaiga out, and examined the dull, rusty edge. "My second question, Myoga, is this. I heard Jaken claim that Tessaiga can kill a hundred youkai with one swing. But, how? It doesn't look as though it could cut a single peach! It looks as though it would break, if I swung it too hard!"

"Um, well. That is to say, you have to make it power up, by … um, well, you have to …"

"You don't know."

"I, ah well, that is, I—"

"Just say it!"

"No."

"Great."

Inuyasha looked glumly at the rusty sword with the elaborate name. He appreciated his father's forethought and effort. He really did. But, a sword this rusty and decrepit? 'Power up?' What did that mean? His father had used it to protect mother: surely, he hadn't stood there, facing his foes with a rusted old blade in his hands! It was ridiculous!

Turning a little away from the others, he moved the sword through a few moves he vaguely remembered from watching his grandfather's soldiers. It just didn't feel right. There should be more. Not just to increase his power—that's what he'd wanted, all this time; power to make everyone back off, to make them respect him.

But, was that still what he really wanted?

He thought of Koranna, scratching his ears.

He thought of Kaede, standing before him, telling him to take the blade, standing before him calmly when she should have been terrified of his youkai state. Because she cared—no, because she loved him.

But, they were only little girls. They didn't count—did they?

He thought of Kikyo—and Tsubaki.

Two priestesses, but utterly unalike.

Kikyo had wanted to purify and get rid of the Shikon no Tama. All the power that was in the jewel, and the only use for it, she had intended, was to destroy it.

Tsubaki had wanted to use it, for her own power, for her own selfish ends. And when she had learned that the Shikon no Tama was gone, she had chosen to use her powers—on him. She had tortured him, raped him, broken him, supposedly to steal his power and add it to her own, but … had she really done anything more, than to sate her own evil desires?

"Inuyasha?"

Kikyo's voice drew him out of his thoughts. Somewhat abashed, he realized that he had been growling, with his ears flattened. "Sorry." He glanced down at the blade. "Myoga … why did father make Tessaiga?"

"He made it to protect the weak," came the reply. "He made it specifically to protect your mother, and you."

"Protect." He breathed the word, somehow feeling that it was important.

"That's what I said, before the blade 'talked' to me," said Kaede. "I was scared for you. I said I wanted to protect you."

His older self would have scorned that statement. No little girl could protect him, as if he needed protection. But, now, he knew better. She had protected him from himself. From the unbridled power of his youkai side, from the lust, and greed for killing.

And he understood why his father had hidden the blade, and not just from his brother. A year ago, before he met Kikyo, before he met Kaede, he could never have used Tessaiga.

"Father loved mother," he said.

"Er, yes," replied the flea. Myoga sounded uncertain, but he was youkai, and did not understand love.

Inuyasha looked at Kaede. "You wanted to protect me from myself. You did. Now … I want to protect you. And Kikyo. With Tessaiga. If it will let me." He brought his other hand to the grip. "I want to be like my father. I want to protect…"

Tessaiga thrummed. Inuyasha stared at it, and lifted the blade. It pulsed, thrumming like a heart, pulsing.

He felt, dimly, a bond being made, and more strongly, youki flowing from him to the blade, and from the blade to him.

And then, it transformed, into a white, shining katana in the shape of a great fang, wreathed at its base with white fur.

_Tessaiga_.

* * *

**Author's Note:**This is a little bit shorter than the last several chapters, but this is the logical stopping place, and effectively the end of this part of the story. The serial isn't done, however! There's still quite a bit to go, and you can probably guess some of the encounters to come. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep updating every one or two weeks—I want to get this finished as much as I hope you want to read it!

By the way, I need to make an acknowledgement—The line I used, _"Never run from anything youkai. It attracts their attention."_ is taken from "The Last Unicorn", by Peter Beagle. The only word I have changed in the quote is changing 'immortal' to 'youkai.' The novel is excellent fantasy, and has a very faithful animated adapation (not surprising, since Mr. Beagle wrote the screenplay). If you are interested, you may want to check out the ConlanPress site. (8/17/2012)


	33. Decisions

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Blood Unbound 32: Decisions**

He sat on the same porch as he had done a moon before, though the sun was only halfway down, instead of setting. His nerves still twitched at the memories of what Tsubaki had done, if he let them, but he wasn't going to let them. He sat cross-legged, Tessaiga leaning against his shoulder, trying to relax. After all, he was back to normal. No buzzing cloud in his head, no rushing blood threatening any moment to overpower him. No weak human, sick and terrified of his surroundings. Just himself. Inuyasha. Hanyo.

Sighing, he yearned a little for his old dream, of becoming a youkai like his brother. He still wanted it—just so, at least once, he could beat the crap off that smug, unsmiling face. But, that wouldn't get him his brother's respect, or acceptance, would it?

Probably not.

And he knew now, that he didn't want to turn youkai. Not if it meant giving up his friends.

Friends.

That had a damn good feel to it.

Friends.

The door slid back. He flicked an ear. "Kikyo."

"Inuyasha."

He watched her limp to the edge of the porch. "Need some help?"

She shook her head. Moving the crutch to the ground in front of the porch, she clung to that and the post as she lowered herself to the floor. After a moment, he moved over to join her.

"That was a good thing you did, giving the pearl back to Yukuuku."

He shrugged. "Myoga and Cheiriyo agreed, that the pearl is useless now—apparently only one trip to the graveyard, and it takes that Hosinki dude decades to make something like that. So, why bother to keep it? I sure don't want to put it back in my eye."

"Don't think I would, either." With a sigh, she leaned against him, then straightened as she felt him tense. "It will probably take me, and Miyatsu several days to sort through everything Tsubaki left. Don't feel you have to wait around for us, if you don't want to."

It was his turn to sigh. "I'm not sure what I'm doing next. I—I have to talk to someone."

"Who?"

Inuyasha didn't look at her. "Jaken."

… … …

Jaken stirred and moaned. "Please, my lord, don't step on me. I didn't mean to…"

"Keh. It wasn't my brother who stepped on you this time."

The imp set straight up. "You!" He stared at the person sitting at the other side of the room. "What are you—" His eyes drifted lower, then widened in surprise. "Tessaiga! What are you doing with Tessaiga?"

Inuyasha's grin was a smirk. "Holding it." He pulled it out of the scabbard, and it transformed into the fang. "Nice blade, isn't it? Able to kill a hundred youkai with one swing, you said?"

"What are you doing with it, you-you filthy hanyo!" demanded Jaken. "Give it to me! I must take it to Sesshomaru-sama! Only he has the right to wield Tessaiga!"

"You can't even touch it." Inuyasha sheathed the blade, and dropped it back into his lap.

"What?"

"Take a look at your hands."

Jaken held up his hands, and gaped at the bandages wrapped neatly around them. "I—no. Not possible. A hanyo can wield the sword, but a youkai can't even touch it? But, surely Sesshomaru—?"

"Nope," said Inuyasha, with evident cheer. "Lord Snoot-nose will get just as stung as you did, if he tries. Father left the sword for me, and that's all there is to it."

"No." The imp stared up at him, horrified. "That can't be. Sesshomaru-sama needs Tessaiga! He must have it!"

"Why? Doesn't he have enough power now? Isn't he supposed to have to potential to outdo the old man himself? So why does he need the old man's power, huh?"

"Because, because, because it-it belongs to him!"

"Yeah? Says who? Why does Sesshomaru want to go against what the old man decided? Huh?"

"I, well, I-I—"

"Let me guess—Sesshomaru is a greedy bastard that wants it all to himself. Right?"

"No!"

Jaken stared at Inuyasha, going silent as he ran out of excuses. Inuyasha matched him stare for stare, until the imp looked away, unable to summon any more excuses. Reasons.

Inuyasha moved Tessaiga to lean on his shoulder, and crossed his arms. "So, Jaken. Tell me again about this panther invasion, and why I should go to the side of the brother who hates me, and who will probably try to take Tessaiga, the moment he sees me."

Jaken's bill opened, but nothing came out. Inuyasha waited a bit, then prodded,

"Go ahead, runt. It was your idea, right?"

"I-I …"

Inuyasha sighed, shifted Tessaiga, and rested his forehead against the hilt. "I promise I won't hit you or step on you. Just start talking, will you?"

… … …

Inuyasha sat on a tall branch, well away from that hated house. He had gone for a run, not going anywhere, just wanting some time alone, wanting to enjoy the breeze in his face and the thrill of speed and acrobatic grace. It had been far too long since he had indulged in such a run, one that was not in part inspired by a desire to run away from a problem.

Leaning back against the trunk, he held Tessaiga against his forehead again. Wistfully, he thought of his mother's grave, where he had so frequently gone to talk out his , it was farther away than he wanted to travel with this immediate decision before him. And, anyways, this was not really a problem he wanted to talk about with her.

It was time to time to talk with his father.

"Hey, old man," he whispered, rubbing his thumb along the smooth wood. "Or should I call you 'chichi-ue'? Wish I could meet you, even just once. Just to see you, hear your voice. Have a, a memory of you…

"Gotta say 'thanks' for Tessaiga and the seal. Been wishing for a long time I could become youkai, but that monster I turned into … I'd rather be hanyo, and outcast to everyone but a few friends, to becoming that again. And Tessaiga seems pretty nifty, besides the seal. Can't wait to see Sesshomaru's face when he sees me with it, even though the first thing he'll do is knock me down and try to steal it.

"But this … 'war' thing, with the panthers … why do they want to do this, anyways? I've seen human battlefields, and it's … it's so … horrid. All those men killed, for what? Over who gets to control a piece of land?

"Why do youkai go to war? I didn't know youkai even bothered to get together in large groups like that. The smart ones, anyway. Dumb ones are always swarming, but that's just the way they are. Yeah, I know you were the 'leader' of the dogs, but I just figured it meant you were like the top wolf of a pack. Didn't know it meant more like a daimyo.

"If the panthers are really after me and Sesshomaru, then I guess it makes sense, to try and join up with him. Assuming he doesn't try to kill me on sight. If only he would just … accept me. Don't have to be friends or anything, just to be able to fight alongside, without trying to put holes in my hide afterward.

"Is it okay, to say I'm scared? I know in a real fight, a war fight, even the best don't always come back. I remember, one of grandpa's soldiers, he was so good, and everyone said he'd be the next war leader, when uncle became daimyo. But, there was an ambush, and he came back with three arrows in his chest, and him with a two-month old baby son.

"I don't wanna die. I've got a couple of friends now, and Kikyo … I'm hoping we'll be more than just friends. I really don't wanna go fight a bunch of stupid cats.

"But, if I don't go, and something happens to Sesshomaru, they'll be after me anyway, right? And they might track me down, into the village, and Kikyo's good, but she can't fight off an army. So, she'd end up dead, Kaede would probably end up dead, and I'd end up dead. If I go, and I end up dead, well, at least they shouldn't have any reason to find the village, since Jaken says me and Sesshomaru are their targets.

"And, if I don't go, and Sesshomaru does take care of the cats—which he probably will—what's he going to do when he realizes I have Tessaiga, and still didn't show up? He'll be so fucking mad … he'd probably kill me for real, and destroy the village just because my scent is around it. So, Kikyo and Kaede get killed by Sesshomaru, rather than the cats."

He sighed. "Guess I made my decision, huh, old man? Looks as if I'll be going with Jaken in the morning. Just wish me luck, okay. At least with Sesshomaru…"

Inuyasha stood up, stretched, and slid Tessaiga back through his sash. Time to go back…

… … …

"No!"

Inuyasha sat in the main room with the three humans. He knew it might be a cowardly move, but he'd decided to get the news over in one go.

Kikyo stared at him, her face white. "You can't go! We just got you back! How can you go off to a youkai war? You're not youkai!"

"No, I'm not. I'm half-youkai. Half-youkai. Half-human. If my mother's family showed up tomorrow, and said I had to go fight in a human war, for the honor of her clan, would you say I shouldn't?

""I have to go." He'd already said that, but he said it again. "If I don't, someone is going to come looking for me. If the panthers win, they'll come looking for me, 'cause they've sworn to wipe out every vestige of my old man's blood. If Sesshomaru wins, he'll come looking for me, because I have Tessaiga, and didn't come the one time he might have accepted me on his side in a fight. If either side comes, they'll come right over this village. I don't think you can fight off an army of smart youkai, Kikyo, not even with his help." He flicked a head nod in Miyatsu's direction. "I know you can't defeat Sesshomaru. He's taiyoukai, and the only reason I'm alive is because, for whatever reason, he hasn't bothered to kill me. Yet. Maybe Tessaiga will even things between us, but I'm not willing to bet your lives on that. Don't forget, Sesshomaru hates humans, and his heart is colder than a block of ice. He'd kill the entire village, and never care. Jaken will happily burn the village down, and Sesshomaru would let him. If I'm going to protect the village: if I'm going to protect both of you, I have to go with Jaken."

"I fear he's right, Kikyo-sama," said Miyatsu softly, his expression full of regret. Kikyo snapped her head around to look at him. "My own family's noble: I was a youngest son, with obvious spiritual power, so I actually had options. I don't know how youkai do things, but I do know the human side of war. The best place to fight is away from your home, your domain. And, assuming his brother accepts his presence and doesn't put a knife in his back—"

"He wouldn't. Sesshomaru may be a bastard, but he's not a treacherous bastard."

"Um, yes. The point is, Kikyo-sama, Inuyasha may actually be safer going. He won't be facing his foes alone, and he won't have to worry about the safety of the village."

Tears had spilled down her pale cheeks. "But, he could die!"

"That, I fear, is the fate all soldiers face in war, whether they go willingly or not."

"Keh. I ain't gonna die easy, Kikyo. And don't forget, I got my old man's sword, now. Jaken claims it can kill a hundred in one swing, so if I figure that out, they won't be able to touch me."

"But, will it work?" Kaede spoke up, seated next to her sister. "It didn't transform until you said you wanted to protect me and Kikyo. Will it transform, in a real battle?"

Inuyasha hesitated a long moment. "I—I'm not sure, little sister. But, I am going, in order to protect you. All of you. That should count, shouldn't it? And I can't very well protect you, if it refuses to transform, and I get killed." He thought a moment longer, and then pulled the blade from the sheath. It transformed, but barely enlarged, glimmering faintly. Inuyasha ran his left hand down the back of the blade.

"Tessaiga," he whispered, trying to reach for that bond he thought he had felt earlier. "I want to protect my friends, and their people. But, the best way to do that, is go where Sesshomaru is, and fight the panthers there. You will help me, won't you? Help me slay my foes, the ones who would slaughter everyone I care about, if they found the village, and I hadn't gone?"

Tessaiga rang. And expanded, to half again its length, blazing with light. Inuyasha yelped and dropped the blade, as Tessaiga, at the same time, stung his hand. "Ouch!" Dropped, it resumed its default form, a few wisps of half-seen youki drifting up from it. Shaking his hand, glaring at the blade, Inuyasha would have sworn that Tessaiga was … annoyed. "Okay, okay! I trust you, I won't ask a stupid question like that again!" Warily, he touched the grip, but nothing happened. He sheathed the now quiescent sword, and worked his hand to get the tingles out.

He looked at the monk as he heard a strangled snort. Miyatsu was trying, and failing, to keep a straight face. "Tessaiga seems to be almost alive, I take it?"

"Damn if I know," grumbled Inuyasha, carefully picking up the sheathed blade and leaning it against his shoulder. "But, I did think I felt something, when it transformed in the tomb."

"And I thought I heard it say 'take me'," pointed out Kaede.

"Keh." Inuyasha huffed, and then looked at Kikyo who was looking down at her hands. "Kikyo?" She looked up slowly. "You do understand, why I have to go? I—I don't want to, but, I have to."

The tears slid down her face slowly, and Inuyasha's insides twisted. He wanted to much to grab her, hold her, and tell her to stop crying, but he couldn't. She wasn't his, not yet, and might never be his, and he didn't have the right. But, how he hated to see her tears!

"I—you have to come back, Inuyasha," she whispered. "I want to see you back."

"Keh! Of course, I will!" he proclaimed, though he knew better, and knew she knew better. "I survived you and the Shikon no Tama, didn't I?"

She managed to smile.

… … ...

Sesshomaru resisted the unusual urge to pace. He knew roughly where the gathered panthers were, now. Part of him wanted very much to transform and gallop into their midst, indulging in an orgy of destruction. To demonstrate how inferior they were to him, alone.

But, that way was folly, he knew. The panthers had their spells, their tricks of hiding or distracting. He would not sense them all. They would attack from all directions, from ambush, from near and far. They were down in a heavily wooded valley, which would limit the agility of his large form, and would make it easier for them to mob him.

He had the high ground, where he was, relatively free of trees, which favored both himself and the majority of those who had chosen to be part of his 'army.' The panthers wanted to lure their prey to them: he was not about to give them that opportunity. If they wanted his blood, they must come to him.

Glancing at the darkened sky, he examined the narrow sliver of the new moon sinking in the west. The silver hawks who had flown to Bokuseno's summon had not reappeared, but that did not surprise him. The half-breed was more than capable of fighting his way through the youkai forest to find Bokuseno, and Jaken was also quicker and more adept at surviving than his diminutive stature suggested. While he hardly expected Inuyasha's presence to make any difference in this battle, Sesshomaru was certain that the hanyo would come, if he could. The half-breed was too desperate to do anything that might make him more 'acceptable' to Sesshomaru, impossible as that task was, to not come. He had not expected the half breed yesterday; of course not. Even Inuyasha was not suicidal.

But, he had thought that Inuyasha would probably show up today. The hawks were more than capable of flying from Bokuseno to here in less than half a day, and there were very few things that a tree could ask of a bird. But, if Inuyasha didn't arrive the next day, then Sesshomaru would conclude that he wasn't coming.

And then, when the panthers had been sent fleeing, this Sesshomaru was going to go hunting for hanyo.

Without warning, Tensaiga vibrated for the second time that day. Sesshomaru snatched his hand up to grasp the hilt. It went still. He waited. There had been times, in the all the years that he had carried the useless heirloom of his father, when he had felt as if Tensaiga was trying to—reach him, touch his soul, or heart, or some such nonsense. He told himself that he didn't believe a mere blade could do any such thing. But, he was also wary of never saying never, when it came to his father and anything the old taiyoukai had a hand in. Tensaiga was supposed to have a very strong power, though Sesshomaru wasn't the slightest bit interested in testing it out. He wasn't even going to try and guess what secrets his father had forged into the blade, and he didn't want to find out.

Nevertheless, he waited, externally calm but internally wary, for Tensaiga to do something.

It didn't.

Eventually, he let go of Tensaiga's hilt, and resumed other thoughts.

It was only a minor mystery; one he didn't care to solve.

… … …

Akeneka tossed and turned. She had tried going to sleep in her fox form, and in her near-human form. But sleep would not come. Finally, she sat up, sighed, and came to her feet. The kitsune made her way on soft paws to an outside door. Sliding it open as quietly as she could, she slipped outside.

"What are you up to, kitsune?" asked a low voice.

She turned, easily spotting Inuyasha from the glimmer of his silver hair. "My apologies, Inuyasha-sama," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

He snorted. "You didn't."

She looked at him, then glanced out over the dark, starlit meadow. Looked back at the hanyo, and then towards the meadow again, trying to decide what she wanted to do. She was still curious about a lot of things regarding the hanyo. But, why should she care about the person who had killed Shinbuki and nearly killed her? And there were all sorts of wonderful smells wafting in from the grass: oh, she wasn't hungry, but she could have fun pouncing on unsuspecting critters and hearing them squeak.

But, she still wanted to know some things, and he was the son of the Inu no Taisho, and Cheiriyo said that Inuyasha hadn't been responsible for what he did, and for a hanyo, he was really handsome, even though she'd always thought hanyos were supposed to be ugly and distorted, but he wasn't, and why was he apparently friendlier with humans than with youkai, and how could he stand to be around that monk and that miko who were both so powerful they made her skin itch—

"Either stay or go, vixen," said the hanyo with a note of annoyance in his voice. "You're starting to make me twitch."

Akeneka jumped, stared at Inuyasha, and then dropped to her knees. "I-I was just wondering…"

"No one's stopping you."

Akeneka hesitated, then blurted, "Why does Rikaru hate you?"

"Huh?" She saw his ears twitch as he looked in her direction. "Who—oh, the two tailed kitsune who attacked me?" He shrugged. "Dunno."

"But, the way he acted—you must know him!" she protested. "He was so angry, when you escaped!"

Inuyasha snorted and shifted the sword to his other shoulder. "Youkai always hate it when I get away."

"No. His anger was personal. He knew you."

"So what?" Inuyasha looked away from her, his voice clearly irritated.

"I want to know," she said. "I want to understand what happened: why Rikaru was so angry, why he str—why he kept after you. If he'd let you go, Shinbuki wouldn't have died."

Silence descended. The hanyo's ear twitched again, and then both ears flattened momentarily. The sword changed shoulders again. "A couple of vixens found me, hurt, and brought me to their caves," he said finally. "I don't remember much—I was just a pup."

"So, something must have happened, that he was involved in," she guessed. "What do you remember?"

"You're nosy, even for a kitsune."

Akeneka huffed at the clear warning in his voice, and tried to decide what to say next. Sleep as an idea had disappeared, and the thought of hunting mice or crickets was downright boring in comparison to trying to pry information out of the tall, handsome hanyo who'd been bequeathed a powerful youkai sword from the Inu no Taisho himself. Folding her arms across her chest, she looked down, planning her approach, determined that she was going to know more about the inu-hanyo before the sun came up.

She didn't realize how silently he could move.

When she looked up, a question on her lips, he was gone.

… … ...

Breakfast was silent and strained. Only Miyatsu and Inuyasha, besides herself, seemed to have any appetite, Kaede noticed as she chewed on a mouthful of rice. Akeneka was glaring at Inuyasha, her tail tip twitching, while Jaken appeared to be talking silently to himself, and periodically tensing, before shaking his head and starting off on another silent conversation. Cheiriyo was outside in his elk form, while Yukuuku was in and out of the room, moving things about and clearly trying to ignore everyone's presence.

As for her sister—Kaede chased loose grains about the bowl with her chopsticks, careful not to look at Kikyo. When they had gotten up, Kikyo had looked as if she hadn't slept; her eyes red and deeply shadowed. Kaede had offered to do her hair, and had spent some time carefully and thoroughly combing her sister's hair, but it hadn't made a dent in Kikyo's despondent mood. Eating the last several grains, Kaede set the bowl down, sighing to herself. She wished her sister could be a little more positive about Inuyasha coming back from the fight with the youkai panthers. She was certain he'd come back. How could he not? He'd survived the Shikon no Tama, Tsubaki, and his unbound blood. Of course, he'd come back!

The door slid back, and Cheiriyo stepped in, once again in his gilt-haired, human form. "Shall I summon the hawks? From what Jaken-dono has said, I suspect we should not linger, if we are to arrive before the panther youkai attack."

Akeneka rose with enviable grace. "I'll go with you. I want to ask the hawks if I can ride part of the way, and then if they'll point the way to Bokuseno."

"So you've decided?" asked Cheiriyo.

The kitsune sighed and nodded. "I'd just be in the way if I went with you and Inuyasha-sama. I wouldn't mind visiting with Yukuuku longer, but I really need to get back to my clan. And—I-I want to see how Rikaru is doing."

Cheiriyo nodded. "I understand." Kaede saw him glance at Jaken who was now looking terrified. "Jaken-dono, do you want to go with us? I think the humans should stay inside; there will be less chance for misunderstanding."

Clenching the overly tall staff to himself, and not looking at anyone, the small youkai stumbled to his feet, and started towards the door, following the kitsune. Cheiriyo looked at the remaining inhabitants, and then smiled briefly and bowed. "Kikyo-sama, Miyatsu-sama, Kaede-chan: it has been an honor and a pleasure to meet with you all. If you will accept the well wishes of a youkai, then may I express my desire that all of you live long, full lives, at peace with all others."

Miyatsu gained his feet and returned the bow. "Meeting with you has been an eye-opening experience, and I will not forget you, nor the lessons that you have—by your very presence, your care, and concern for mortals—imparted to me. I hope that you will survive this 'war' without harm, and I would welcome a chance to some day meet with you again."

Kaede scrambled to her own feet. "Thanks for everything, Cheiriyo-sama," she said with a quick bow. "Especially for helping Kikyo-ane-sama and Inuyasha. And I'll make sure Kikyo drinks her tea."

Cheiriyo smiled. "Few things are more precious, than the loyalty of one sibling to another," he said. "Inuyasha-sama, we'll wait for you outside."

He left, leaving three humans and the hanyo alone. Miyatsu looked thoughtful, and then nodded.

"Kikyo," he addressed the silent, withdrawn miko, "I'm going to go ahead and start looking through Tsubaki's scrolls. You can join me when you're ready—don't hesitate to sleep some more, if you need it."

He left through a different door, leaving the three alone. Silence fell, deep and strained.

Kaede studied Inuyasha. He was staring at Kikyo, ears half-canted backwards, his eyes yearning. With Kikyo on her left side, the girl didn't have to turn her head very far to examine the profile of her sister. Kikyo's hands were fisted on her thighs, her eyes downcast, her shoulders tensed. The girl fumed to herself. What was it about adults, sometimes? Inuyasha was going off to fight, and all they could do was sit and not move? Oh!

She scrambled to her feet and marched up to the hanyo. "Inuyasha-ani-chan, are you going to give me a hug or not?"

Startled, Inuyasha whipped his head around to look at her. "Huh?"

"Big brothers give little sisters hugs before they go off to fight, don't they?"

He blinked at her, clearly taken aback. After a few moments, and a blink of two of golden eyes, he nodded. Standing up, he shoved Tessaiga through his sash, then stood up. Stooping, he picked Kaede off the floor and pulled her onto one hip, almost crushing her to. "Oof!" Kaede protested the hold. "Not so hard!"

"Sorry." The grip lessened, but she could feel a tremble in his arms. "Kaede…" His voice was a husky whisper. "I … I…"

"If you want to thank me," she interrupted, guessing what he was trying to say, "there's two things you can do."

"Huh?" He eased his hold enough that he could look at her. Kaede grinned.

"First, you have to come back. Don't let those panthers get to you."

He snorted, sounding almost normal. "Feh! Like any cat can get the better of me!"

"Good." She grinned. "Second…" Kaede met his eyes. "You've got to give Kikyo a hug, too."

He looked startled, and then apprehensive. "I—but—"

"You can hug a friend, can't you?" she demanded. Inuyasha hesitated, then nodded. "And Kikyo's your friend?"

"I—I'd like to think so," he whispered finally.

"So give her a hug," Kaede told him. "Ane-sama is scared. Tell her you're going to come back. Tell her you want to come back. To her. Tell her so she believes it."

Inuyasha looked at her, emotions flickering across his face, not the least of which was uncertainty and trepidation. But, finally, he nodded.

… … …

Kikyo was sitting on a folded futon, the splints on her leg noticeable beneath her hakama. Inuyasha knelt before her, not reaching for her. "Kikyo?"

She looked up from her hands, and he ached to see the pain and fear in the depths of her shadowed, bloodshot eyes. He wanted to comfort her—but right did he have?

"Do you—want me to come back?" he whispered.

She took the time to consider his question, her gaze not wavering. "Yes."

"Even though I'm a hanyo? Even though … even though I don't want be human forever, even if you found another way?"

She frowned a little, and he found himself trying to explain. "I meant to wish for it on the Shikon no Tama, Kikyo. I meant it; I would have done it. But, after these last few days … I realized, that I don't want to be human. Not for always. I don't want to be youkai, either—not if it means turning into that monster that tore apart Tsubaki—and laughed. But, that means … I'll always be hanyo. And, you wanted me to be human…"

Kikyo's eyes darkened, and then closed, as she turned her face away a little. Inuyasha waited, trying to remain calm, to not listen to the frightening thought that she was going to reject him, to say that she did not want to be seen anymore with a hanyo.

"I wanted to be a normal woman," Kikyo said, her eyes still closed. "I wanted to stop being different from the other women, being separate, apart. I wanted to marry, to have a family."

She looked back at him. "You were like me—set apart, on the outside, not allowed to be normal. I thought … I thought we could use the Shikon no Tama to answer both our problems."

Kikyo went quiet, her eyes focusing inwards. Closing her eyes for a long moment, she continued. "Since then, I've realized—I can't stop being a miko. I can't stop using my power to help others, to protect them. It's … selfish … to not do what I can."

"And, then, I saw you." She looked away. "When you arrived on the hawks. You were—human. You were—different. You weren't—yourself. And I think … I think, for the first time, I realized how much I had asked you to sacrifice, to make that wish."

The young woman met his gaze. "I was wrong, Inuyasha. I think … I was trying to take the easy path: to get what I wanted, by asking someone else to pay the price. I was—selfish."

"No." He had to object.

"Yes, I was." She leaned forward. "Didn't you just admit that you've realized that you don't want to be human? Wouldn't you have realized that, sooner or later, if the jewel had transformed you? How would you have not come to resent me, for asking that much of you?"

It was his turn to look away. Until her fingers touched his face.

"I want you to come back, Inuyasha." Her eyes had cleared, and Inuyasha could see and hear her certainty. "I don't know what kind of relationship we can have. But, we can't find out, if you don't come back." She quirked a smile. "And, you have to come back, because my little sister has always wanted a big brother, and she's decided you're it. So, don't disappoint her."

Inuyasha smiled, relief draining his own tension. For all her tears of yesterday, he'd been afraid that Kikyo would decide that she didn't want to keep even friendship between them: that she might decide that, since he no longer was willing to turn human, that she would decide that she could no longer associate with an outcast hanyo.

"Keh!" Very daring, he put a hand on top of hers. "Those cats won't lay a paw on me!"

Kikyo smiled, and then laughed a little.

And that expression, he tucked carefully into memory, to make sure he recalled, in the days ahead, of what he was truly fighting for.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And now the story moves into the last arc. The panther demons (from anime episodes 75-77) and Sesshomaru lie ahead ... and what is Sesshomaru's reaction going to be, when he sees what Inuyasha is carrying?


	34. Taisho

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 33: Taisho**

Kumonti stopped her nervous pacing. "They're coming!"

Sesshomaru acknowledged the silver hawk's call with a slight nod, but kept most of his attention to the west. The panthers had moved closer during the night. The day was gray and blustery, unseasonably cool. The bolder youkai of the 'army' were sparring each other; the others were hiding behind boulders, or under the temporary shelters some had thought to create. Much of the mortal life in the area had melted away, either having flown, or been eaten.

He could smell the wind and the rain in the clouds, though it would be late in the day before the rain fell. He could smell the growing restlessness and the tension, both apprehension, and bloodlust, from his followers. More faintly, since the wind was against him, he could smell shifting, but growing waves of lust and enthusiasm from the feline tribe. Touron and her kin were no doubt exhorting them.

The spiraling winds of air and youki that accompanied the noisy back winging of the two hawks were also accompanied by the smells of heated, eager birds, one scared swamp youkai, a grim elk youkai, and an inu-hanyo. So, the half-breed had agreed to come. It would be interesting to see whether he could survive the day, and not losing himself to his blood.

Another scent—very faint, but vaguely familiar—registered. The inu youkai took note, but didn't wonder. He felt the youkai flares as the two hawks transformed, but did not deign to turn to face them. His attention was where it should be.

Jaken outpaced the other four, his feet pattering against the stony ground. "Sesshomaru-sama! Sesshomaru-sama!" he shouted, as if the youkai lord could not otherwise hear his approach. The imp flung himself down at Sesshomaru's feet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he wailed, banging his head on the ground as he kowtowed. "I brought the hanyo, but he-he—he has the sword! He's taken Tessaiga!"

Sesshomaru stiffened, as the words triggered recognition of that elusive scent. He whirled. He ignored the imp as his eyes went to the red-clad figure walking towards him. Inuyasha was smirking, but the inu-youkai barely noticed that, for his gaze went to the battered sword riding on Inuyasha's left hip, its hilt tightly held by the hanyo's left hand.

Tessaiga.

Rage rose. The sword he had spent decades searching for; the immensely powerful sword made from his father's fang and containing his father's power; the sword that should have come to him on his sire's death, as the only true son of the Inu no Taisho: that sword. In the hands of a mere, miserable hanyo—! Insult! How dare he!

A youkai aura flicked between him and the sullied, dirty aura of the hanyo. It was green and blue, far less powerful than his, but layered with endless years of experience, creating a calm, serene presence that was a silent rebuke to the anger shimmering through his own aura.

Sesshomaru transferred his focus to the youkai stepping forward, reaching for the cool, calculating aura of his battle soul, ruthlessly stomping on his rage, including the additional spurt that came with the bitter knowledge that only one being could try his temper and make him lose it. He was on this mountain to fight, not indulge himself in his just rage.

The slim, humanlike figure that contained the calm aura bowed. "This Cheiriyo greets the lord Sesshomaru, son of the late Inu no Taisho, and would beg a boon of the young lord."

"What does the former lord of the dead akashihi-youkai require of this Sesshomaru?"

The green-blue aura did not so much as twitch at the cruel reminder. The youkai straightened, meeting his gaze without hesitation, and with equal lack of visible expression. "This Cheiriyo who is now but a humble healer, remains in debt to the Sesshomaru-sama's great father. Learning that the panther clan has vowed the destruction of those who bear the late Inu no Taisho's blood, this one would offer what is left of his power and his life, to stand in the path of those who would destroy the inu clan of the Silver Moon."

"This Sesshomaru needs no help from a mere healer."

"Oh, come on, Sesshomaru!" Not unpredictably, the hanyo spoke up, edging around the elk youkai. "You've got an entire army of youkai, and you're going to turn down a healer? Are you stupid, or something?"

"Peace, Inuyasha-sama." Cheiriyo spoke quickly, as prickles of irritation escaped Sesshomaru's control and danced through the fringes of his youki. "This is a matter between myself and the lord Sesshomaru. Please do not interfere."

But, the hanyo was, his half-brother observed, as usual, disinclined to take advice. "But, he needs someone like you—well, the others will, anyways. And he insulted you! How can you—"

Cheiriyo tapped his suddenly visible staff against the ground, and his aura rippled and darkened with evident disapproval. "The lord Sesshomaru spoke nothing untrue, young Inuyasha-kun. Your desire to defend another may be laudable, but it is displaced. It is not your place to interfere."

"But—"

Cheiriyo gave a very slight shake of his head, then met the angry, golden gaze. Moments passed, and then the hanyo looked away. "Feh," Inuyasha muttered, "Don't know why anyone wants to bow and scrape to that bastard."

"Sesshomaru-sama is the general on this battlefield," Cheiriyo said quietly. "As you have come to fight at his side, must you not acknowledge his leadership, and obey his orders when the battle comes?"

… … ...

_Sesshomaru-sama is the general._ Cheiriyo's words slammed home in Inuyasha, startling him, taking him aback, reminding him what was really at stake. One ear twitching, he turned away, striving to master the upset of his emotions. On the entire trip—which was considerably less uncomfortable than his first trip on the back of a youkai hawk—Inuyasha had been concentrating on how Sesshomaru was going to react to his presence, and the presence of Tessaiga at his waist. He'd spent his time summoning his old braggadocio, and imagining Sesshomaru's discomfiture when he discovered that he couldn't even touch Tessaiga.

But, that phrase reminded him that he wasn't in his usual situation with Sesshomaru. There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of youkai around him. And they were gathered, not because of him, but because they were going to be fighting a pitched battle with another group of youkai. And Sesshomaru was in charge.

Inuyasha wasn't sure what that meant in the youkai world. But, he did have more than an inkling of how things went in the human world. There'd always been soldiers about in his grandfather's home; he'd watched and listened on the sly many times. He'd watched any number of human skirmishes and battles over the years.

This wasn't about two brothers who hated each other.

This was about war.

He felt—chilled.

Something whispered within him. The chill grew, silence at its center.

… … ...

White ear twitching, Inuyasha turned away, saying nothing. Somewhat surprised that anyone could silence the obnoxious hanyo, Sesshomaru gave a grudging mental nod of respect to the elk youkai.

Cheiriyo turned back to Sesshomaru. "My lord." He bowed again. "I know that you will have no need of my skills. I ask only that you allow me to stay, in whatever role most pleases you."

The inu-youkai sighed internally, wondering yet again why fate had conspired to put him in this role. He was not his father, to care about others and enjoy the company of inferiors. But, these stupid youkai expected him to lead them as his father would have, and he was not going to let anyone think that he was less than his father—in anything.

"The healer Cheiriyo may do as he wishes," he said.

"Thank-you, Sesshomaru-sama." The healer bowed again, then stepped aside. The business with the healer finished, Sesshomaru turned his attention to the red-clad thief of Tessaiga. All around him, he could sense the gathered youkai; all of them intensely interested in the coming conflict. They all knew, of course, about his late sire's idiocy and its results. They also all knew about the sword that had vanished, the sword that could have made destroying the panthers a simple matter, in the right hands.

Which meant he wasn't going to give into his preferred action, which would be to snatch Tessaiga out of Inuyasha's impudent hands and give the disrespectful hanyo the deserved beating.

There wasn't anyone present who would object to his actions, and many would probably cheer him on. But, doing so would be a distraction.

Mentally checking that his reactions to the half-breed were firmly under control, Sesshomaru called out in his coldest voice.

"Inuyasha. Come here."

The hanyo pivoted slowly. His chin came up, his eyes met Sesshomaru's, and he walked forward, stopping a length away. Sesshomaru breathed in his scent, felt his aura, and realized that Inuyasha had changed. Again. There was nothing of the half-cocky, half-defiant, defiant, hair-triggered boy who used anger to cover up natural fear. There was nothing of the defeated, terrified youngster begging for mercy; nothing of the buzzing of an incipient outburst of pure youkai rage and bloodlust held down by nothing more than the despairing will of a half-human more afraid of himself than of Sesshomaru.

This Inuyasha seemed—older. There were a stillness and an awareness in his eyes, in his expression that Sesshomaru had never seen before. There was a thread in his aura, a hint in his smell that was also new. Except, it wasn't—quite. There was a certain familiarity about it, which Sesshomaru couldn't place. A certain… grimness.

The new Inuyasha brought his chin down in the barest of nods, his gaze never waving. "Sesshomaru." A beat.

"Taisho."

Sesshomaru blinked.

… … …

Inuyasha felt no ripple of amusement as he recognized his brother's surprised reaction. In fact, he felt very little, save the ringing silence at the center of his being, and a small warmth at the center of that silence and in the hilt under his clenched hand. There was no room for defiance, for cockiness, or even fear.

For this day was a day of war. A day that would see death and destruction. Possibly his death and destruction. A fight which had not come to him, but to which he had gone, willingly.

The eyes that were the exact same shade as his narrowed in the slightest degree. "Taisho?" Sesshomaru echoed the title that Inuyasha had just bestowed. "You acknowledge me as your leader?"

"You are the general of this army, Sesshomaru ani-ue," Inuyasha said slowly, feeling a need to pick his words with care. "In battle, you are to be obeyed."

"And the inu-hanyo intends to obey this Sesshomaru?" The youkai's eyes started to shift: and Inuyasha recognized where Sesshomaru had wanted to look. Inuyasha took a careful breath, aware of the delicate task before him. Releasing his tight grip on Tessaiga with his left hand, he slowly grasped it with his right. Even more slowly, he drew it, willing it to its true form.

Tessaiga pulsed and flared white-gold. Fur caressed his knuckles. Gasps and whispers rose around him, but Inuyasha ignored the crowd's reaction, looking and concentrating only on his half-brother.

"This Inuyasha comes to fight those that desire destruction of all who bear the late Inu no Taisho's blood," he stated as formally as he knew how. "This one comes bearing Tessaiga; the great sword intended for Inuyasha by its creator. Does Sesshomaru-Taisho accept this Inuyasha, this Tessaiga in battle against the panther clan?"

… … …

The howling rage of offended pride and desire warred against training and battle instincts: barely, the latter won. "You claim the right to Tessaiga? A mere half-breed?"

"Tessaiga answers to my hand. It will not answer to a youkai hand." For the first time since Inuyasha had turned to face him, Sesshomaru saw a flicker of another emotion. "Ask Jaken."

Jaken came scuttling around to prostrate himself in front of Sesshomaru, this time with his bandaged hands held out. "Look, my lord, look!" he cried. "Tessaiga did this! I wanted to bring the sword to you, I found it, in the graveyard, in the other world, but it burned, it threw me off, look!"

Sesshomaru did not deign to look down, to break the eye contact with this entirely unexpected version of the despised half-breed. Inuyasha had chosen to fight him on this level, to pretend to be the equal of the pure inu-youkai. In front of an entire army of youkai, one and all of whom had once sworn allegiance to his late father, Sesshomaru was not going to let himself show weakness.

No matter how much he wanted to reach forward, to snatch Tessaiga out of the dirty-blood hanyo's hand, and beat him to a barely-living pulp for the pure audacity of claiming a right to the sword that rightly belonged to Sesshomaru.

Reaching for the ice of his battle-blood to calm the lesser fury of his insulted pride, Sesshomaru gazed coldly at his despised half-brother. "So, the hanyo claims ownership of Tessaiga. Does the hanyo also claim mastery? Can the hanyo use the Tessaiga to slay a hundred youkai with one swing? Can then hanyo call on the Scar of the Wind?"

… … …

_Shit!_ Inuyasha felt a moment of near panic. _Kaze no kizu? _What was that? The name for that one-hundred-in-a-swing attack? How was he supposed to know what it was called, let alone have mastered an attack he'd never seen, let alone attempted?

He clenched his jaws against the defiance that he wanted to spit out, and forced himself to breathe, and concentrate on the calm center he had found within. _Chichi-ue_, he reminded himself, mentally building an image from the description Cheiriyo had given him, deep in the night before, when he had asked the youkai to tell him about his sire. His father had sacrificed everything to save Inuyasha and his mother. He had to live up to what his father would want.

He had to get Sesshomaru to let him fight with him.

Refocusing his gaze, Inuyasha sought to find the right words. "This Inuyasha has not—had a chance to learn the Tessaiga's attack. If the Sesshomaru-Taisho knows this—'Scar of the Wind,' then this one—this one humbly requests the Taisho's instruction."

Inuyasha saw the flicker of annoyance flash across Sesshomaru's face before the latter obviously tramped down his own temper again. "And why," asked Sesshomaru, this time with an unhidden edge of scorn, "should this one waste time attempting to instruct a mere hanyo in an attack the hanyo will be unable to master?"

Anger stirred, and Inuyasha had to grip his calm shell with both mental hands to keep from snarling. _Don't snap. Think, Inuyasha, think! How would his mother have phrased it? His grandfather? What would his father want him to say?_

Warmth seemed to travel up his sword hand. Tessaiga? Or his imagination? It didn't matter, as Inuyasha took a breath and found the words. "Would the great sire of the Sesshomaru and the Inuyasha have bequeathed a sword to a son who could not learn to use it?"

… … …

Sesshomaru felt the hanyo struggling to respond, and anticipated the outburst that would prove the hanyo's unworthiness of his blood, and the sword.

He did not expect the belated riposte. It shook him, as the other responses had not.

_His father thought Inuyasha would be able to master Tessaiga?_

Impossible!

And yet…could it be—

_No._ Sesshomaru denied the thought. No half-breed could possibly master a sword forged from his father's fang. The idea was ridiculous.

He didn't want Inuyasha here, on this battlefield. The hanyo was _his_ prey: his to toy with, his to secretly save or punish, his to finally make an end, when it suited him. He saw no need to care for his father's wishes, for had the taiyoukai not betrayed his blood and his kind, when he had snatched up that scheming, human vixen and bred the hanyo upon her?

_Tessaiga._ The word was swirling around the watching, gathered youkai, whispered by more and more voices, each edged with wonder … and hope.

_Hope._

The realization galled. The youkai around him had come not at his bidding, nor because they were eager to be led by him. No. They had come out of a misplaced sense of loyalty to his father, and to his father's blood. They had come because the Inu No Taisho had saved their own lives, had led them with a fire and a passion and a sense of obligation that they presumed the son also had. They considered, one and all, that they owed the former lord a life-debt.

To him, they owed nothing, save what he had inherited through his father. But, they did not believe in him, as they had his father: the whispers, the hope, proved that.

He wanted to snatch Tessaiga away from his brother's impious hand, and to make it his own.

He wanted to order the hanyo off the field of battle, making sure that no cowardly panther would have a chance to drive home a fatal attack at the height of the conflict.

But, if he did either of those things, the gathered youkai would desert him. He would shatter what little faith they had in him; they would doubt whether he were a worthy inheritor of his father's title.

Of that, he didn't really care. He would prove his superiority to his father in his own time. But; however, much he hated to admit even to himself; there was another factor.

_His father had recruited the army specifically to keep the panther army off his flanks, while he fought one-on-one with the taiyoukai leader._

True, there was no panther taiyoukai facing him. But, it was a fact, that he was not yet to his father's strength. It was also a fact that, without Tessaiga in his own hand, it would not be impossible to be swarmed under by sheer numbers.

Unlikely.

But, to throw away a fighting force unasked for, against however slight the possibility…

Foolishness.

As foolish as the youkai who had decided the show up for someone else's fight.

If they wanted to die fighting, he should stop them?

Sesshomaru drew his focus back to Inuyasha's face. "Tessaiga is no weak blade, to be mastered in a moment, hanyo. An unmastered blade has no place on a battlefield."

Annoyance flashed momentarily in the other's eyes, then faded. In the back of his mind, Sesshomaru wondered where the hanyo had gained his control.

"If I—if this one cannot wield Tessaiga, then this one will fight with his claws. But, will Taisho neglect his duty to those following, to oversee their training? Will Taisho refuse to grant this one, the knowledge of how to use the "Scar of the Wind"?"

Sesshomaru very nearly saw red. _What youkai god had interfered and given his stupid brother this sudden cleverness of tongue?_

"You want this Sesshomaru to train you, to use Tessaiga?" he asked, with an edge of anger he could not quite hide.

"This one would be grateful, Taisho."

Sesshomaru kept his hands from clenching. "Very well. One lesson. And if you fail to learn to draw the WindScar from Tessaiga, then you will withdraw from the battlefield."

Any expectation that Inuyasha would argue was dashed. The hanyo stared at him for a long moment, and then sheathed Tessaiga, before giving a very slight bow.

"Understood, Taisho."

Inuyasha straightened.

Sesshomaru—_moved_.

* * *

**Author's Note:** 'akahashi' = red elk. If you want to get an idea what Cheiriyo looks like in his 'true' form, check the red elk in the Studio Ghibli's "Princess Mononoke." That film is one of the items that led me (indirectly) to Inuyasha, thanks to Netflix's recommendations. So, making Cheiriyo a 'red elk' youkai is my little tribute to the film.

Next time-will Inuyasha learn how to unleash the Wind Scar?

(10/14/2012)


	35. The Scar of the Wind

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 34: The Scar of the Wind**

"Sister, look! The hawks! Want me to take them out?"

Tōran glanced up at the sky, and saw two silver hawks, clearly flying towards the location of Sesshomaru's army. "Don't bother, Shuran," she told her brother. "They'll be on the lookout for attacks: you won't surprised them, as you did the old one." She watched as they abruptly dove, streaking earthward at incredible speed. They disappeared below the crest of the hill where Sesshomaru and his army were located. Moments later, they reappeared, arrowing upward. At a distance she knew would be out of range of Shūran, they leveled off, gliding in a huge circle. Tōōran sighed to herself, dismissing any half-built plans of luring Sesshomaru down the mountain and ambushing him. Ah, well. Straight up battle was more to her preference, anyway. Meet the dog and his army, wipe them out, and the Master could at least rest in peace; his death avenged.

"Sister." Karan stepped up beside her, also looking skywards. "How much longer are we going to wait?"

"Not long," replied Tōran. "This evening, I think."

"Good." Karan smiled. "Do you think that hanyo has come?"

Tōran shrugged, dropping her gaze to her shorter, red-haired sister. "Does it matter?" she replied. "We take out Sesshomaru, and the only problem with the hanyo will be finding him. Think your scouts can find an inu-human cross?" "Karan smirked. "No problems." Licking her lips, she added, "I wonder what roasted inu-hanyo tastes like?"

They both smiled.

… … …

Inuyasha didn't even see Sesshomaru move. One moment, he was acknowledging Sesshomaru's offer of a single lesson, inwardly astonished that first, Sesshomaru had decided to do so, and second, that he had unbent enough to bow to his brother. The next moment, he was off the ground and flying through the air.

He had just enough time to realize that he was being carried by a hand gripping the front of his fire rat, when he was released. He landed feet first, then had to backpedal desperately to stop from going down on his butt. Recovering his balance, he glared down the slope at Sesshomaru who had just landed lightly. "What the hell?"

Sesshomaru gave him a disdainful look. "I will not risk my army to your clumsiness and ignorance," he stated. "Nor will the panthers be able to observe."

"What?" The next moment, Inuyasha connected the story of the sword's power, and the move by his brother. "Oh, right." He would argue with his brother about 'clumsiness,' but 'ignorant'—well, he was—for the moment.

It also made perfect sense not to the let the enemy know about a weapon or attack.

"So what do I do?" He moved the sword, bringing his left hand to add to the grip, and then lowered it so the curving blade was just barely in contact with the ground. "To learn how to use 'Windscar.'"

"You can't," Sesshomaru flatly. "You will never master the Windscar. You may leave now."

"What? Like hell!" Inuyasha glared at his brother, ears going flat, forgetting about his attempt to be formal and polite as his temper flared. "You said you were going to give me a lesson, and now you're trying to change your mind? Forget it!"

"So be it, then." Sesshomaru's eyes were narrowed, and his voice was cold. "I will demonstrate how hopeless it is for you to understand Tessaiga. I will prove that you will never be able to use the Windscar."

Inuyasha glowered, his ears flattening even more. "And I'll prove you wrong. Brother."

He vaguely expected Sesshomaru to draw his own sword, assuming that he would use it to demonstrate the grip and or motion that would trigger the attack. He waited, his eyes fixed on the slender, still form of his brother.

He was wrong.

Sesshomaru shot forward. Inuyasha tensed, started to raise the sword, still waiting for the other blade to come out.

Instead, his brother flashed by him, a clawed hand flashing out. Green flared across the arched fingers, and then—

Inuyasha cried out as pain seared his face and as his vision turned black from the slash of envenomed claws. He jerked away, went to one knee, and felt terror explode from nowhere. He could see the tiny, needle-beaked youkai diving towards his eyes. He felt the pain as they rammed themselves into his eyes; felt the pain in his hands as he tore them free, felt the stomach-twisting terror and horror, the blindness, terror, and pain, blind, he was blind, blind—

"No!" He shouted to himself, struggling to stay in the present. He forced his hands down, and groped for the hilt of Tessaiga. He found it, grasped it, and brought his other hand to the hilt as well. Shaking, ignoring the faint pulse of warmth traveling through his hands, he staggered to his feet, panting as he struggled for control of his emotions. "Damn you, Sesshomaru!" he snarled, smelling the stink of the venom. "What the hell are you trying to do? I can't see!"

"You don't know how to see the Windscar." A breeze whipped by him, and two claws sliced open his left shoulder. "You will never learn," came the voice from behind him.

Gasping, Inuyasha struggled to keep his balance, to focus on his grip on Tessaiga's hilt. He had to focus, concentrate on the sword. Sesshomaru was cheating, using his poison. But, he wouldn't let Sesshomaru win. He would learn, somehow. But, how, when he couldn't see? And the damn poison would slow him down, make it harder to avoid Sesshomaru's attacks.

Claws raked over the top of his right shoulder, and he yelped. "Ow! Damn you, you're supposed to be teaching me!"

… … …

"Teach you?" Sesshomaru kept his voice low and mocking as he narrowly watched the hanyo. His claws were tinged with the irritating smell of the hanyo's dirty blood, but he ignored it, working to keep his rage at bay, as the same time he was 'teaching' the stupid boy the only way that Inuyasha might possibly learn.

He had never forgotten how Inuyasha had first used his blood claws. He didn't believe that Inuyasha could ever sense the Windscar, let alone make use of it. But, if he had been maneuvered into giving the hanyo a 'lesson,' he would do it in the only possible way that might get through that thick head.

The hanyo was simmering with rage, the stink of it rapidly replacing what was left of that initial spike of sheer terror. Just why Inuyasha had initially reacted that way, Sesshomaru didn't know. But, the rage had taken its place, and that was all that mattered.

A pity he couldn't take the time to enjoy what he was doing. But, he had to do what he said he would do, and on the extremely small chance that Inuyasha would figure out how to use Tessaiga…

"Teach you, a hanyo?" he asked in his silkiest tone. "Do you truly think you can ever understand Father's sword? You are too stupid. Too slow. Too weak." He whipped forward again, this time choosing to shred one flattened ear. Inuyasha yowled, and jerked around to face him, stinking sweat beading his face, and his breath coming in harsh pants through his bared teeth.

"You will never sense the path that draws out the blade's full power," Sesshomaru continued, goading the hanyo, slipping in the only hint that could be made. It would do no good; of course. "I can sense it, but you—never."

He leaped back down the slope, intending to take out the other ear.

… … …

Through the haze of his pain and his rage, Inuyasha felt Sesshomaru's massive youki shift and move. He ducked, and felt the claws rip the air just past his other ear. Hah! Missed!

He felt his brother's youki come to a stop, and had a moment of puzzlement. Odd. When had he last managed to evade a blow from Sesshomaru?

"You are a fool," came the hateful, scornful voice. "I will rip you to pieces, because you will never sense the windscar. Never learn how to swing through the scar and take a hundred lives. Save yourself pain. Admit your stupidity, and leave."

Inuyasha growled, yet the words—pricked at something. Sense the windscar? Swing through the scar? What the hell did that mean?

He felt Shesshomaru's youki shift and move again. He leaped aside to avoid it. But this time, Sesshomaru followed his move, his youki slamming into Inuyasha's, a hand lashing out, catching his shoulder, tossing him into the air. Inuyasha crashed down and rolled several times down the slope until he could stop himself. Somehow, he kept his hold on the sword, but, for a moment, could only lay there and pant, feeling the poison burning and stiffening his limbs, smelling the bruised grass and damp soil where he had landed.

"You are half-human, worthless," hissed Shesshomaru. "You cannot sense the scar of the wind, cannot feel the crashing of the youki winds. You are dull, hanyo. You cannot learn."

Damnit! Inuyasha sensed Sesshomaru starting to move again. He wanted to leap to his feet, wanted to snarl his defiance, he was angry, he wanted to swing the blade through Sesshomaru's smug face, but, if he could only figure out what the hell Sesshomaru was talking about!

The huge mass of youki shifted and moved, slashing forward, slamming into his own, spitting a chaotic flash of youki, which faded as the youki jerked aside and moved away. What? Wondered Inuyasha, with a flash of irritation, having expected to be grabbed and thrown again. Why was his brother toying with him? Just because he couldn't figure out what the windscar meant? Why couldn't he just explain it? Why did was he rushing Inuyasha over and over, with that odd feeling that he was deliberately pulsing and slamming his cloud of youki into Inuyasha's own, causing the sensation of flashes and flares, the heat, and that odd scent—

Wait.

Inuyasha snapped his head up as pieces suddenly started to come together. _Youki_. He'd always been able to sense it, feel it, smell it, but had never given thought to that sense, other than be aware that it was his most reliable warning of youkai being nearby. He had thought at times, that he could sense the other youkai's emotions in it, but again, it was only information.

But…

_Youki winds? _

Scar of the wind?

Scar of the _youki_ winds?

It was youki that powered his claw attacks. Youki which gave the youkai kind their strength, their speed, their powers. And what did youkai use to kill youkai? Youki.

That smell. That flash and flare between his youki and Sesshomaru's. Moving youki. Youki winds—_wind striking wind. _

Slowly, stiffly, trying to ignore the burning, Inuyasha clambered to his feet. Brought both hands back to Tessaiga's hilt. "Try that again," he whispered.

He didn't hear his brother's taunting reply, focusing with all of his will on just two things—his nose, and his sense of the youki. He felt his brother start to move, felt that massive power whirling around the core that was the inu youkai. Braced, he waited. He felt the more powerful youki slam into his own, realized that both were in motion. And he felt it—felt it and smelled it. Where the two collided, power seethed and flared, and there was a smell, a peculiar smell. Power flared in a line across the colliding winds. Like a wound. Like a scar. _Windscar_.

He didn't feel the claws opening his scalp, and he forced himself to remain still and concentrate on feeling and smelling. The tumult between the winds crested, then fell as his brother passed him. The outpouring of power dropped, and then there was only the slow rotation of his youki. Of his youki winds.

Inuyasha turned slowly, to face the shimmering core of power that was Sesshomaru. He lifted Tessaiga, and drew it back. "One more time, big brother," he whispered, tightening his grip on the blade that was full of youki. "If you dare."

… … …

If you dare.

Sesshomaru looked up the slope at his half-brother, startled, and then angered for being startled. What? The hanyo thought he could sense the Windscar? He thought he could trigger the attack? The poison must be muddling his mind.

And yet, as he studied the waiting hanyo, the icy, emotionless, battle-ready core of his being put together words and stance, and made the unwelcome conclusion that the hanyo had indeed begun to sense something. Was sensing the clash of winds when he came close enough for their youki auras to interact.

The thought offended him; offended his pride and his hatred for the hanyo. How dare the hanyo figure out an attack only youkai should sense? That angry, furious part of Sesshomaru wanted to dash forward, to dare the scruffy hanyo to cut through the Windscar if he could—Could he! A hanyo? A half-human? Never!

But, the icy part of his soul—the part that stayed cold and calculating through the worst of battles—refused to discount the possibility. Tessaiga glimmered in the hanyo's hands, transformed into its true shape. If half the blood of the Inu no Taisho could do that much: it was not impossible.

"As you wish, half-blood," he said. He dashed forward, flaring his youki, reaching for the hanyo's weaker cloud.

Sesshomaru felt the two moving winds touch each other, crackle against each other. Felt the 'scar' forming in the interface between the two winds, glowing with its pent power. He saw and felt the Tessaiga moving, and felt its keen, youki-swirled edge entering the scar.

Tessaiga swept through the scar of the wind. Power exploded in its wake, and the power, coruscating, flashed outwards.

Directly towards him.

It could have badly injured or even killed him, Sesshomaru knew. Had he not acknowledged the possibility; however small, that Inuyasha might manage to trigger the Windscar attack; had he let his justifiable hatred of the hanyo control his reactions; he would have been unprepared. But, he was, and so, in the instant when he felt the power flaring, when he felt Tessaiga cutting the scar, Sesshomaru leapt skyward, focusing his youki on flight.

He didn't quite make it.

… … …

Cheiriyo paced the perimeter of the camp, uneasy and worried. Talking with Inuyasha that last night had given him some hints about the antagonism between the two brothers: when he had sensed the anger rising in the older inu, he had quickly stepped between them, hoping to diffuse the situation. Inuyasha's bitter description of his brother had not been inaccurate; Cheiriyo tried not to think about the cruel reminder of the onetime loss of everyone he held dear. Still, his interference had apparently worked, though he would not take credit from the youngster who had taken his words seriously, and subsequently stood up to his brother with a composure that surely would have pleased his sire.

He'd been surprised—along with everyone else—when Sesshomaru had grabbed his brother and flown off. It hadn't taken much thought to realize why the elder youkai had done that, though he had to point out the reasons to a number of the other youkai. Cheiriyo had never seen Tessaiga in action under the old lord's hand, but he had seen the aftermath of one attack. The sight of the deep gouges in the ground had horrified him, and he hadn't cared to imagine what would happen to anyone caught in the power that created to those furrows.

A faint rumble came from over the mountain. Cheiriyo whipped his head around, staring in the direction in which Sesshomaru-sama had disappeared with his half-brother. Light flared beyond the peaks, growing, brightening, as the rumble increased. A disturbance rippled through his sense of youki. Various beings cried out, puzzled, uncertain.

A cry came down from the sky. "Wind-scar!" shrieked one of the hawks, turning on a wing to dive towards the fading glow. "Sesshomaru-sama! Sesshomaru-sama!"

Windscar. The phrase was repeated through the throng. Someone said "Tessaiga!" And it was picked up and repeated, growing louder. "Tessaiga. Tessaiga!"

He felt the growing enthusiasm.

But, for himself, he only felt cold.

… … …

The rumble was much fainter, as was the ripple of disturbance, down in the valley where Tōōran had her forces. Like her siblings and many of her people, she snapped her head around. She saw one of the hawks diving, after screeching something that she couldn't quite make out.

"What did he say?" wondered her brother.

"I don't know." She refused to admit that something about that disturbance bothered her. They waited silently. Gradually, a new sound could be made out—many voices, chanting something, but not quite loud enough to be made out. "Karan," she ordered, not looking away from the east, "Send your fastest scouts out. Find out what those youkai are chanting. Avoid detection if they can, and avoid fights."

"Right." Karan leapt away, her tail bristling slightly, a sure sign that she was also perturbed.

"I don't like this," whispered the other sister, rubbing her arms. "That was power being released. A lot of power."

Shunran was the most sensitive of the quarter. "Don't borrow trouble until the scouts come back," ordered Tōran. "We've worked decades to make sure we can outmatch that dog's son. He isn't nearly old enough to match the old one, yet, especially without his sire to train him. It's probably nothing."

… … …

Tessaiga flared in his hands, and blazed with incredible power as he sliced through the windscar. Astounded, Inuyasha felt, heard, smelled, tasted the windscar attack being released. And for an unknown number of moments, there was only the massive explosion of power, streaking away from him, clawing through the ground and the air, bright strikes of energy that he didn't need his merely mortal senses to detect. He felt stunned.

_A hundred lives in a single blow._

He'd always known his father had been the most powerful youkai of his time.

He hadn't realized just how powerful that meant. This was merely the power of the sword. Of the original…

The attack faded, and with it, much of the 'brightness' in his inner senses. Knees suddenly weak, Inuyasha sank to his knees. But, through the stunned amazement, another emotion began to arise. He had done it! He had used the Windscar! Sesshomaru was so wrong!

Sesshomaru. Despite his general feeling of resentment and even hatred for his brother, Inuyasha could not help feel a frisson of fear. Had he harmed his brother? The attack that could kill a hundred: had he caught Sesshomaru in the attack? Surely not! Sesshomaru knew what he was doing, right? He'd have known to get out of the way of the attack. Even though he'd done all that sneering about Inuyasha being unable to master the attack. And yet… and yet…

He forced himself back to his feet, half-leaning on the sword propped against the ground. He tried to use his youkai senses to locate his brother's aura. It had to be around somewhere. It just had to be—

… … …

The very top of the fiery claws of the Windscar attack slashed through his youki cloud and one of his feet, sending Sesshomaru into a tumble. He would have fallen into the still-growing attack, but he ruthlessly slammed out more power to break his tumble and streak higher. As he broke his tumble, something white flashed for a moment. It startled him, but he ignored it, concentrating on clearing the final fringes of the attack. Soaring well over Inuyasha's head, Sesshomaru fell towards the untouched ground upslope. He landed roughly, pain slicing up his sliced foot, but he ignored it, straightening up and turning around.

"Lord Sesshomaru!" He looked up at the descending hawk and glowered. He snapped out his hand in a gesture to 'go away', and was relieved to see the hawk break out of his dive and head upwards again. Annoyed at the hawk—he was supposed to be watching for the panther clan, not watching in on a private lesson!—Sesshomaru looked downhill.

The hanyo was on his knees. Beyond him, were the five radiating furrows that was the physical signature of the attack. They were not nearly as deep as the furrows that their mutual father would have carved. But, they were deep enough that he would have been in serious trouble, had he been unprepared.

And the hanyo had won. Had learned to do what Sesshomaru had thought he could not do. He had been wrong.

The hanyo had mastered their father's sword. Tessaiga. The one thing that Sesshomaru had wanted to obtain, after his father's death.

And it had come to the hanyo's hand. It responded to the hanyo. And, if Jaken was correct, he would not even be able to grasp it.

Bitterness, like gall, went through Sesshomaru's heart as he stared at the hanyo who was slowly climbing to his feet. Why had his father favored the hanyo over himself? Why had he weakened himself so, in the moons before his death? Why was it so important to give so much for the sake of a half-breed?

His father had bestowed his most precious inheritance to the despicable half-breed, leaving his true son with a useless blade.

His heart burned.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I was writing a Nanowrimo (see site at .org) 'novel' during this month, so I haven't written Inuyasha stuff, until the last two days. I already had this one plotted out and half-written, so I managed to get this posted tonight. Moving into the climax, folks!


	36. Final Preparations

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 35: Final Preparations**

Inuyasha breathed in, paying attention to his newly attuned senses. A moment later, he tried not to cavil, swallowing hard. Sesshomaru's aura felt as if it were smoking with his rage. He didn't think it was his new understanding of his youkai senses that was making him sense that Sesshomaru had never been so angry.

Sesshomaru _was_ that angry.

His skin crawled, the rabbity fear wanted to freeze, wanted to bolt. _Think! _He had to say something, do something, to distract Sesshomaru, to kick him out of his building rage, before he decided to act on that rage and tear Inuyasha into little pieces.

A faint pulse skittered up his hands. _Tessaiga._ Inuyasha focused his attention on his hands, on the glimmering focus of power that was the blade. It gently pulsed again, and he followed the sense of energy up his hands, up his arms, into himself, into that warm, silent, _centered_ space he'd found before. The tightness faded a bit, letting him breathe. Of course. He and Sesshomaru could not deal with each other as brothers who hated each other. Not now. Not when there was a battle at stake. _Taisho_. He must think of Sesshomaru as his leader, his general.

"Taisho-sama," he said, and felt the slight twitch in the massive, fulminating aura. "This one humbly gives thanks for the lesson on how to use Tessaiga."

He felt Sesshomaru's start, and then a shudder rippled through the massive youki cloud behind him. Inuyasha's ears twitched, as he realized his brother must be trying to control his temper. The thought might have been amusing, in other circumstances, but too much was at stake to display amusement. He wondered what else he could do to lessen Sesshomaru's fury—a weird thought, he reflected, but, what else was he to do?

Realizing that he was still standing with Tessaiga powered up, Inuyasha decided to sheathe the blade. He moved his left hand to the scabbard, and hoped that he could manage to return the blade without looking like a fumbling fool. His eyes were starting to distinguish light and shadow, but not nearly enough to see what he was doing. Fortunately, as if Tessaiga sensed his intent, the blade's tip touched the scabbard on the first try, and slipped in as if called.

"Taisho-sama." Inuyasha decided to try again. "This one humbly requests to stand with the Taisho against the panther clan."

It was the wrong thing to say. He felt a burst of anger, and then a set of fangs was sinking deeply into his shoulder…

… … …

Sesshomaru could not remember another time when he had been as angry. His brute side howled to be released, demanding to be let out, to transform into his true form, longing to rend this insufferable, degrading hanyo who dared—_dared—_to attempt to treat with this Sesshomaru on anything like equal terms. He hated the hanyo standing before him, for touching Tessaiga, for proving him wrong. For simply existing. The scent of his own blood maddened his rage even further. That the hanyo should dare use Tessaiga to hurt him!

He exerted his will, with all the steel and ice in him. Reminded himself that his blood lust would have a target soon enough; many targets, much worthier than one hanyo. The real source of his wrath was not the hanyo, but the memory of his father, and it was beneath him to take out his resentment on the weak half-brother.

Yet, he was angered at how Inuyasha had proven him wrong. He hated the thought of returning to those gathered youkai, with Inuyasha next to him, Tessaiga at his waist, ready to use it, ready to prove Sesshomaru wrong—

..._ask to stand alongside the Taisho..._

The beast exploded. Youkai winds howled at Sesshomaru lunged forward, thought dissolving into beast-driven blood lust—

_Twang!_

Sesshomaru jerked, head snapping back as a double-beat of power cut through his haze. Shaking his head, growling, he realized that he had started to transform. He pushed it back, feeling the fangs shrinking, jaws shortening. Annoyed at himself for the unintended shift, and a bit confused, he shook his head again, and then looked ahead. And promptly became aware of four things.

First, his mouth was filled with blood.

Second, the mostly ignored sword at his side was vibrating madly, and pulsing in regular beats of power.

Third, Inuyasha was back on his knees, clutching his left arm, his fire-rat robe rapidly darkening with blood, which was coming from a good dozen holes in his back alone.

And fourth, the hanyo was surrounded by a hazy, blue hemisphere, which was pulsing in sync with Tensaiga.

Sesshomaru grabbed Tensaiga's hilt to stop the irritating vibration. It sparked against his hand, then settled with a distinct impression of disapproval. Irritated that a mere sword should have an opinion, Sesshomaru turned his attention back to the hanyo. The barrier—for that's what it was, he realized—had stopped pulsing, which didn't explain where it came from. Another gift from his father to the bastard? he wondered crossly. Though it had sprung into existence a bit late, hadn't it, _after _something had already taken a bite out of stupid half-breed?

Chagrin swept over the inu-youkai as his mind made the connection with humiliating slowness. _He_ was the one who had bitten Inuyasha. He had lost control of his hate and his rage, and had attacked Inuyasha as a maddened beast. Yes, he fully intended to kill the hanyo one day, but not like this! He was not a mindless youkai beast, slavering for the kill. He would take down the hanyo with cold-blooded precision, cold-blooded derision, waiting for the full acknowledgement of defeat and despair to fill those golden eyes, before he delivered the death blow.

Inuyasha whimpered, sagging. "Why ... brother?" he half-whispered, half-croaked. "Why do you —hate me so? I didn't ask—to be born hanyo. I didn't ask—father to give me—Tessaiga. I didn't ask for—blood so strong—" He coughed, his voice thickening with his own blood, as Sesshomaru realized that he may well have dealt Inuyasha a mortal wound. "All ... I ever wanted ... was you ... to accept me..."

_Accept?_ A mental lip curled, but, at the same time, something else within revolted at what he was seeing. He wasn't ready to see his brother die! If only for the embarrassment. To have those youkai suspect he had killed his own brother out of sure pique; to face the panthers with the death-stench of his brother clinging to him—no!

Tensaiga rang. Sesshomaru realized that he had pulled the sword out of the sheath unknowing. He glared at it. It pulsed again, delivering a wordless message—_heal him!_

_The sword that could save a hundred lives with one swing._

Sesshomaru looked back at his brother, glaring, angry at himself for putting himself into this position. Angry at his father. Angry at the world.

But, he could not deny what he had done or deny what his senses were telling him. He would not permit this!

He took a step forward, and swung.

The slender, dull-edged blade gleamed blue as it took light, even as the barrier around Inuyasha vanished. It swept through the hanyo's torso as if through air. Inuyasha snapped straight with a gasp, and Sesshomaru watched in avid curiosity as the scent of pain and dying vanished. He felt the youki aura brighten, watched the holes in the fire-rat robe mend themselves, saw the bloodstains fade and vanish, heard the heart pounding with fresh vigor, and sensed the stunned shock.

If he felt any sense of relief, he refused to acknowledge it.

... ... ...

The world turned upside down.

He was dying, aware mostly of a profound shock, that his brother had actually moved to kill him, and a grief deeper than any pain. He had known he had said the wrong thing as soon as the words were out of his mouth, as Sesshomaru's aura blazed with rage. There had been no time to apologize, no time to pull Tessaiga and defend himself. There had only been the instant of warning, and then agony as mouth full of fangs clamped down on his shoulder and upper chest, puncturing, crushing.

And then, out of nowhere, _something_ seemed to cut through the miasma of pain, despair, and dying. Pain vanished. Bones knitted, muscle rewove, skin smoothed out. He took a breath and felt life flooding into him, banishing even the underlying fatigue that he only now realized he had been suffering since his encounter with the Shikon no Tama and Naraku. And opening his eyes, he realized that he could see again: see the five deep furrows that must be due to Tessaiga, see the lowering sky, and the muted colors of the mountain-slope.

Physically, he felt absolutely wonderful.

Mentally, he was still shaking.

Sesshomaru had tried to kill him. Not just threatened, not just words about Inuyasha's life belonging to him, not simple pain and humiliation.

He'd known, from his mother that the pureblooded inu-youkai could take two forms. But, he had never seen Sesshomaru in his true form, and had suspected that Sesshomaru considered it beneath him, to attack his bastard brother as a dog.

Yet, he had. Inuyasha might not have seen the transformation, but the attack could only have been the dog form. And that felt so very … wrong.

Inuyasha knew Sesshomaru was still behind him. He didn't really want to turn around and see the face of the Sesshomaru that had attacked to kill. But, what choice did he have? He didn't want to be thought coward.

Hesitating a final moment, Inuyasha stood up. Gripping Tessaiga's hilt with his left hand—and grateful for the warmth he was certain he could feel coming up through that ragged leather, he slowly turned around.

To his relief, Sesshomaru's form was fully human, with no hint of the canine jaws that had nearly killed Inuyasha. But, to Inuyasha's puzzlement, the elder brother was paying him no attention. Rather, all of his irate gaze was focussed on the slender blade he held in his right hand.

He had never seen that sword drawn before, though it had been resting on Sesshomaru's hip for as long as he could remember. Inuyasha frowned a little, trying to remember. Hadn't he asked Myoga about it once or twice? And hadn't there been something in one of the stories about the old man, that Bokuseno and Cheiriyo had related to him?

_Tensaiga._ The name came to him, and a moment later, the description Myoga had given him. A sword that couldn't kill. (He had found that funny at the time.) A sword that _saved_ lives, Myoga had said.

"Tensaiga … healed me?" he whispered.

Sesshomaru snapped around and glared at him. Inuyasha barely noticed, his eyes on the beautiful, slender blade that had a flaw only from a swordsman's point of view. He had yearned for the blade—not often, and not in a long time, but the fantasy of having had that blade back when his mother had been dying of a fever…

Seeing the direction of Inuyasha's attention, Sesshomaru slammed Tensaiga back into its sheathe, and then had a handful of fire rat in his hand, forcing Inuyasha to his toes, bringing their faces bare inches apart.

"Tensaiga is mine!" he hissed.

Inuyasha blinked at him, and then nodded. He'd never truly _wanted_ that kind of sword, other than as a wistful fantasy. Among other things, he was quite capable of imagining how he might end up surrounded by entities begging him to use the sword, or plotting to steal it.

"And this … never happened."

"What?"

The grip on his fire-rat increased, twisting, nearly choking him. "Tensaiga did not heal you. You were not … injured…If you ever tell …"

The request was irritating, but Inuyasha had no desire to make an argument, given how murderous his brother's expression was. "I won't tell," he agreed, "as long as you agree that I did learn to use Windscar, and that you will allow me to stay for the fight with the panthers."

For a moment, he thought that Sesshomaru was going to give into his rage again. It felt intense enough to burn his skin, after all. But, after a moment, Sesshomaru thrust him away. Inuyasha fell onto his rump, used the downward slope, and his momentum to turn that into a backwards somersault, and moved smoothly back on his feet. Sesshomaru glared at him; Inuyasha tried to keep his face expressionless.

Both swords pulsed again. Inuyasha was startled by the coincidence, and surprised by the sense that Tessaiga, at least, was annoyed and impatient. Sesshomaru started a little, and whipped his head around to glare at the hilt of Tensaiga, making Inuyasha wonder what that sword had been trying to convey. Nothing Sesshomaru appreciated, at any rate.

He felt Sesshomaru forcing his anger down, and might have felt sorry for the brother who clearly had as much trouble with his temper as Inuyasha himself did. He didn't, of course

But, he did wonder if their old man had had a like temper.

"We should return," Sesshomaru said in a clipped, icy voice that was almost without an edge of anger. "Now."

Inuyasha was unsurprised when Sesshomaru invaded his space again, but this time, his hand grabbed only the back knot of Inuyasha's hakama. This time, he _felt_ the youki gathering under his feet, and somehow solidifying. He felt off balance just a moment, as the youki cloud started to rise. Then, he let his knees flex, immediately adjusted, and watched the mountain slope disappear beneath him with bemusement and more than a tinge of envy, which he didn't bother trying to hide. He did have to hide his amusement and resist the urge to smirk, as he sensed his brother relaxing.

Sesshomaru _did_ so love to display his 'superiority' towards his brother.

It was annoying.

But, it was better than hate.

… … …

The repetitive chant of "Tessaiga" was getting both irritating and concerning to Cheiriyo. Having Tessaiga on their side was unquestionably a bonus—assuming Inuyasha truly learned how to use it. But, using that possibility as a rallying cry seemed…ridiculous. If nothing else, if the panthers overhead what was being said, and knew enough about the old Taisho, they would not be surprised by the blade, and might have a counter to the attack.

But, most of the youkai were inimical to his kind, and they were not listening to anything but their imaginations.

He glanced towards the mountain where the two inu had disappeared. The youki flare and rumbling from the presumed Windscar attack had occurred some little time ago; he had expected the two to return by now. Had something happened to either or both?

Motion caught his eye, and Cheiriyo sighed in relief as he recognized the two. Moreover, he noticed that Inuyasha was standing next to his brother, rather than being rudely hauled along like a fresh-caught prey. Had the two brothers reconciled themselves, he wondered. Unlikely, he suspected, but perhaps the two inu had at least come to a truce…

A hawk's screech distracted his attention. One of the silver hawks arrowed down from the sky, far faster than any mortal bird. It disappeared out of view. Yowls of pain and fear rose in the distance, and then the hawk reappeared, winging hard as he thrust upward, two tailed, howling figures struggling within his claws. Lightning spat up from the valley, but far behind his tail feathers.

The cries of 'Tessaiga' rapidly subsided as the action in the sky drew everyone's attention. Cheiriyo saw Sesshomaru's flight hesitate, for just a moment. Then, he altered direction slightly, and increased speed noticeably. Shooting down towards the gathered army, a dozen or so heights above their heads, he shoved Inuyasha away from him, and then changed his course to close with the hawk.

Inuyasha gave a startled yelp, tumbled for a moment, and then collected himself, rolled into a somersault, and then back out in to a controlled fall. He landed fewer than two lengths away from Cheiriyo with a thump that made the youkai wince. The hanyo nearly went to his knees, but not quite, straightening with a growl. Like most of the others, he looked up, as Sesshomaru raced towards the hawk.

Cheiriyo chose to look at Inuyasha, instead. The intensity of his gaze increased after a few moments, as he reconsidered what he was sensing. The hanyo's youki aura was noticeably different than it had been just this morning. It had been just a little ragged, with a whisper of fatigue, of a fragile wholeness: all of which made sense given the physical ordeals the hanyo had been through in recent moons. But, now, he seemed to be brimming over with energy, with no sign that he had ever been injured severely enough to test his hanyo stamina. The change was so noticeable that Cheiriyo couldn't help be intrigued. Why had it happened?

"Inuyasha-sama?" he murmured, knowing better than to approach the hanyo from behind before Inuyasha acknowledged him.

A white ear flicked an acknowledgement. "Cheiriyo-dono."

Cheiriyo took three steps forward to put him at the hanyo's shoulder. "Your—health seems much improved, Inuyasha-sama."

A sigh answered him. One ear twitched rapidly, and then the hanyo turned around to face him. "It is, and I can't talk about it."

"Can't?" echoed Cheiriyo, puzzled.

Inuyasha gave him an intense look, then quickly turned his head to look up towards Sesshomaru. Cheiriyo followed his gaze, in time to see the inu youkai catch one of the captive panthers from the hawk, eviscerate it with his claws, and then throw the screaming cat in an arc that would land the body halfway down the slope. Cheiriyo snapped his gaze away, stomach twitching, and found himself snared by Inuyasha's gaze again. "Some questions are best left unasked, healer," the hanyo said softly.

Cheiriyo nodded jerkily, trying not to listen as the other panther's snarls turned into screams of pure agony. He had never wanted to be involved in the affairs of the daiyoukai; he reminded himself. Best not to be noticed by that ilk. Best to live a quiet life, away from fighting for power or revenge.

He would be dead, were it not for a daiyoukai. But, he would be so relieved when he could considered his debt repaid, and return to the simple life of his mountain home…

A hand hesitantly touched his shoulder. He looked up, to find a concerned-looking hanyo looking at him. "Um, healer, are you, uh, okay?"

He swung his head from side to side, once. "No," he whispered, more to himself than to the other, looking down. "I want to be—home. I want to be in my fields, among my herbs. I want to be with—never mind."

The hand grip strengthened. "I know what you mean. I'd rather be, well, with _her,_ if you know what you mean."

Cheiriyo looked up, and nodded. "If it were up to me," Inuyasha continued, his eyes serious and intent, "I'd say you've paid back to debt to the old man. You probably saved my life with that drink: somebody would've had to kill me, if you hadn't broken the blood madness."

Cheiriyo nodded again. "If anything, I reckon I owe you, healer. I know I can't talk you out of leaving this stupid fight. And even the best fighters can die in battle. But, if we both survive, I make you a promise, Cheiriyo-san: you need me; send for me. Tessaiga was made to protect; and I figure, that means the old man wants that I should use it to protect not just the weak, but the people that are my friends as well. Youkai or human."

The old elk youkai started, flinging back his head to stare at the hanyo in shock. Time stood still, and rolled back. Another being with silver hair rather than white, but with equally intense golden eyes had gripped his shoulder—both shoulders. Had stared into the eyes of a shattered, wounded, grieving youkai and demanded that he live. Had insisted that the herd would want him to live, to carry their memories and dreams forward in life. Had told him that all dreams did not end with one dream that even the most lost could find a new path, one that would return them not just to life and peace, but more… _You can become more than I: I could not save even one other member of your herd, but who knows but that one day you—or your son—will save the life of a daiyoukai's son?_

Cheiriyo jerked back from the memory, and from the hand, breathing hard, shaking inside, and staring. This Inuyasha, he had seen in three forms; captive, mindless youkai, scared, desperate human, and hanyo. But, only now, did he truly see who Inuyasha was — the Inu no Taisho's son. The son of the dog who extended his sense of loyalty and honor beyond the narrow lines of blood and clan. The youkai who had dared dream about limits beyond power or mindless avarice. The youkai who had come upon a slaughter field, and who had responded not with the carnivorous instincts and blood lust of his being, but had reacted with disgust, outrage, and action, destroying the panther youkai who had pulled down the last of his people and destroyed them.

This was the daiyoukai's son. Cheiriyo recognized that, and, little though he knew of Tessaiga, understood that Tessaiga had come to Inuyasha's hand more than just to seal his blood. _Sesshomaru _ would have looked at the killing field, and turned away.

_Inuyasha_ would not. He might not have the power—yet—to stop such a slaughter, but Cheiriyo had little doubt, that he would have tried.

Drawing a deep breath, Cheiriyo forced his attention back to the moment. Inuyasha was looking at him uncertainly, even with a slight hint of apprehension, as if wondering he had done something wrong. Cheiriyo met his gaze, gave a gentle smile, and then bowed.

"This one is greatly honored by your offer, Inuyasha-sama."

The—boy was blushing a little by the time Cheiriyo straightened. "I—I ain't no lord, Cheiriyo-san." Any likeness to the old lord's passion and grace had vanished—but, then, the hanyo was very young. "You—you didn't just save me, y'know. I mean—I didn't really think there were any high youkai that wouldn't just automatically hate me, 'cause I'm hanyo. And-and you even helped Kikyo, and she's human…"

"Your father helped me to see the value in many life-forms, Inuyasha-sama," Cheiriyo said with a slight smile. "I—"

"Inuyasha. With me."

Sesshomaru's voice was not loud, but it cut through the low susurration of conversation. "Taisho calls," muttered Inuyasha with a quick roll of the eyes. "Watch your back, healer." And with that, he was gone, leaping over the nearest youkai, heading towards the crest of the slope where Sesshomaru stood. Cheiriyo watched him go, and thought, _And I will watch your back, Inuyasha-sama. And beg the gods that you not need my poor help…_

… … …

Tōran paced in the small clearing, simmering with fury. Nearly, her entirely force had bolted forward as the first of their dispatched spies were thrown to the ground by that hated dog, to shriek their mindless pain until the poison and injuries destroyed them. Barely, barely had she kept them in check, with voice, and will and the slash of ice across the ground which no one was to cross. But, it was her sister who was most insistent that they wait. The hawks had caught two, but more had been sent out. And they needed to know what had caused that youki disturbance. Unknowns meant unpleasant surprises in battle..

A ripple of disturbance attracted her attention. She whirled, to see the front ranks parting to let two pale figures run four-footed through the crowd. The leader of the panthers frowned a little as she recognized them, for they reminded her of a onetime companion who had fallen far from favor. Who had sired her two cubs, she had never said, even in death, but clearly, it was not one of the clan's toms. Unlike true clan members, they had never learned to walk upright, and the younger could not speak. Save for their eyes and their youki aura, they looked more like mortal felines; She would have had them killed out of hand as worthless to the clan. Karan had objected, defending their right to exist, pointing out that the clan had yet to recover from the first war with the Inu no Taisho. Tōran had not felt so confident in her leadership in those days, that she wanted to openly disagree with her sister.

What she had to admit was that Karan had been correct in their worth, for no other members of the clan could hide and sneak as well as the two silver-and-gray, tabby-coated felines came to a panting halt before Karan. The younger dropped to a prone position, clearly exhausted, while the older stood to four-footed attention, her ears perked and her blue eyes fixed on Karan.

"Mist, Fog, I'm so glad you're safe!" exclaimed her younger sister. "What did you learn?"

"We found five furrows in the ground, radiating from a single point," said Mist. "Deeper than two tails in places, and reeking of youki. Powerful, powerful youki. We found the smells of two inu youkai—one tainted with human smell. There were other smells as well—poison and blood with the hanyo, blood on the youkai."

The mention of blood on the youkai produced a stir. Even Tōran felt a frisson of surprise—Sesshomaru had been injured? Not much, given the power he had radiated as he eviscerated her two loyal clan members. But, still…

"Bring the prisoner!" she snapped, as Karan continued to speak to the two runts, turning away as she saw her sister kneeling and scratching behind the Fog's ear.

A feeble wail of pain turned her around. In a cage carried between two panthers crouched a small, emaciated and scarred imp who looked as if he came from Jaken's clan, which, in fact, he did. "Let me go!" he begged. "You promised, I've told you everything I know—let me go!"

Tōran's smile was cruel, as she looked at the prisoner. "Everything? You've never mentioned anything that can slash five furrows in the ground, and warp the youki winds from two mountains away. What have you not told me, little imp?" She flicked a glance at a third panther standing next to the cage.

Four lines appeared on the skinny back, and the imp yowled with pain. "I don't know I don't know!" he wailed. "Stop! Please stop!"

"You haven't told me everything yet," said Tōran. "What is powerful enough that could hurt the Sesshomaru? What had that throng on the other side of the mountain chanting?"

"Tessaiga."

The word did not come from the prisoner. Tōran whipped around, to glare at Mist. The feline looked away, but added softly, "That's what they were chanting. Sister and I—we were close enough to hear."

"Tessaiga." Tōran turned back to her prisoner. "Tell me about Tessaiga, ugly one, and I will let you go."

"Go?" The imp looked up with hope in his clouded, yellow eyes. "Tessaiga? Oh, yes! Jaken talked about Tessaiga. A lot! His master—his master was searching for it, he said. The master's father's sword, he said. Powerful. Powerful! Kill a hundred youkai with one blow, he said! With Tessaiga, Sesshomaru-sama will be more powerful than his father, Jaken said!"

Dismay and avarice alike stirred in Tōran's breast. Such a sword could make the difference in the battle. And the very thought of the son being more powerful than the father who had slain the Master… But, the thought of obtaining the sword for herself, or one of her siblings. It could turn the battle in their favor just as easily. And the thought of using the old Taisho's sword to revenge themselves on the sons…

"Very well." Tōran gave the imp a smile. "Let him go."

They unfastened the door to the cage. The imp stared at the opening, bill agape for several long moments. "Free!" he cried, leaping out. "I'm fr—"

Tōran's spear slashed through his neck. The spattering drops of blood froze in an instant, as did his body. It hit the ground and broke into pieces.

"So will end all who dared support the Inu no Taisho," she said.

Smiles and smirks were passed around, and low growls of satisfaction and anticipation.

"Tōran, look!" exclaimed her youngest sister, Shunran. "On the crest!"

Tōran turned. They all did. Peering through the trees, up the long slope, the panthers looked up. Bright against the lowering, angry sky stood two figures, one in red, one in white. Both with white hair … and both with swords.

"Sooo…" Tōran let her breath out in a hiss. "The hanyo decided to save us a hunt." Amusement trickled around her, which she ignored as she realized, she did not know which inu bore 'Tessaiga.' Not that it mattered. They would just have to get both of them. "Listen up," she said, immediately quieting the forces behind her. "This is what I want…"

This day, they would have their revenge.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Next time, the battle between the panthers and the Inu no Taisho's sons!


	37. Battle, Part I: Engagement

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 36: Battle, Part One: Engagement**

A dark tide of panthers oozed out from among the trees in the valley. More than a bit apprehensive—he didn't worry about the youkai one on one, but there were so many—Inuyasha gripped the hilt of Tessaiga, dithering about whether he should draw it or not.

"Not yet, hanyo," came a barely audible brother from the youkai standing to his left. "You display fear."

Inuyasha growled a little, annoyed at Sesshomaru's insult. He was not afraid!

Nevertheless, he released his grip on Tessaiga, forcing himself to breathe slowly, reminding himself to stay calm. Letting his eyes slide out of focus, he reached for his youkai senses, examining the gathered army below. They dissolved into a thousand loci of youki auras and smells, all very much alike. Youki spat and sparkled as the auras jostled against each other, in a continuous display. He should have no trouble finding a 'scar' to slice through, Inuyasha thought as he drank in the sensations, striving to memorize the 'feel' of the youki. He would have to be careful not to trigger the Windscar unless everyone on his side was out of the way.

"It's gonna be hard to use windscar once we're in a melee," he observed aloud.

"Any youkai fool enough to get in front of you deserves its fate," came the emotionless replay.

The hanyo growled again. "I know accidents happen in battle, but I'd rather not kill youkai who came because they felt obliged to the old man's memory, thank-you very much!" He refocused his gaze, watching as four panthers with obviously stronger auras than the rest moved out in front. "You gonna fight in your true form?" he asked, curious.

A snort. "They are not worthy. Be silent, hanyo."

"Silent, hanyo." Damn stuck-up half-brother. Inuyasha huffed to himself, keeping it quiet. And what did 'worthiness' have to do in a war? Didn't a general use his best weapons in a war?

Or was the true form not Sesshomaru's 'best weapon'? Inuyasha smirked inwardly at the thought, though that was something he would never dare voice his question.

But, he had to admit; someday, he would like to see Sesshomaru's true form—if only to compare it to the old man's bones.

As long as that true form wasn't coming for him.

The quartet of panthers was suddenly in the air and flying. Immediately, Inuyasha found himself in the air with a roiling carpet of youki beneath his feet. Ascent and descent rose and fell in near synchronization, leaving the two groups about fifty paces either side of the two carcasses. Inuyasha tried not to wrinkle his nose at the stench of poison and eviscerated bodies.

The tallest youkai—a slender woman with blue hair, a sword, and a lance stepped forward. Sesshomaru took a step forward as well. Inuyasha didn't need directions to stay still, keeping his attention focused on the quartet. The single male felt to be the most powerful, by a slight edge, but Inuyasha had already noticed that his motions were slow. Pretense, or slow reactions? Inuyasha suspected the latter.

"Sesshomaru."

"Toron."

"That is your half-brother?"

"The other is the hanyo known as Inuyasha." No direct acknowledgement of their blood-ties, Inuyasha noticed.

Asshole.

"Surrender, and your death will be painless, and your followers will be free to depart," was Toron's opening offer.

"This Sesshomaru cares nothing for threats. Leave. Or die."

She laughed. "And leave our master unavenged? Think again, dog."

"Hurt feelings over the outcome of fair battle are of no concern of this Sesshomaru."

Toron's eyes narrowed as she glared. "You will die at our hands, Sesshomaru. And we will see how long it takes to make your weak little hanyo beg for mercy."

Inuyasha gritted his teeth to keep from reacting to the taunt, trying to keep his ears from flattening. This was just words; he reminded himself. He'd have plenty of chance to prove those words wrong; he told himself.

"Those of inu youkai blood need have no fear of weak panther blood," came the slightly-bored sounding reply. "Last chance. Leave." Knuckles cracked, and the acrid smell of fresh venom bit Inuyasha's nose.

Toron laughed. "Fight and die, inu!" She swept up her lance, made a small circle with the head, then brought it slashing down to the ground, even as the man made a gesture of throwing.

Ice zigzagged up the ground from the point of the lance, as lightening crackled in a ball hurling straight towards the pair. Inuyasha leapt sideways to avoid the strikes, pulling out Tessaiga, then mentally swore as Sesshomaru leapt not just sideways, but forward. Landing on one foot, Inuyasha jumped again, knowing he would never dare try the Windscar as long as Sesshomaru was in front of him.

Sesshomaru might not even be thinking of him, as he flashed forward. The full inu youkai ducked a fireball, ignored a cloud of pink mist, and then the quartet scattered as he swiped with envenomed claws. The male panther yowled with pain as Sesshomaru's claws opened his shoulder, but before the inu could follow up, Touron was between them with a whirling lance. "Get him clear!" Inuyasha heard her shout. "Call the charge!"

Inuyasha leaped forward, seeing his opportunity as Toron and Sesshomaru engaged. Both hands on Tessaiga's hilt, he concentrated on looking for a 'scar' to slice through.

He had to dodge a fireball, then ran into the pink mist. A cloying smell of flowers filled his lungs, and his senses splintered. Shit! Youki auras and images of a giggling youkai girl whirled around Inuyasha's awareness. Inuyasha froze from the sudden confusion. Damn it! Where was anything!

The massive aura of his brother's youki attracted his attention. It was also jiggling and swirling about, but nowhere nearly to the extent that the other auras where. Ignoring his vision entirely, Inuyasha oriented himself against the center of where his brother was, and worked out against that. A burning orb of pure youki was skittering erratically towards him, powerful enough to injure him if it hit squarely, and he was running out of time to dodge. But, Tessaiga was in his hands. He could sense no firm 'scar,' but with the massive center of his brother's power stabilizing his senses, Inuyasha was certain he knew the path of the fireball. He swung straight down as the fireball closed on him.

The blade met the fireball and cut cleanly through it. The two halves crackled, spat, and then disintegrated into unorganized, harmless youki. Hearing a yelp of dismay, Inuyasha grinned and leapt towards it, delighted in the affirmation that Tessaiga could do more than create a wind-scar when swung just right.

He dodged a slow bolt of lightning, then heard the yowling as the gathered panthers charged. Taking a few skipping leaps back, Inuyasha quickly assessed the situation. Sesshomaru and Touron were a tightly wrapped ball of fighting: her aura was clearly lesser strength than his, but she was using her weapon's reach and a speed that must approach his, to keep the inu out of striking range. The other three were backing down the mountain, now that he had momentarily abandoned his attack. But, the forces on his side were still standing at or behind the top of the mountain, not moving.

What the hell?

Inuyasha realized that Sesshomaru had not given orders to attack. And probably wasn't even thinking about it, as fast as he, and Toron were moving. But, the panthers were on the move, and if he didn't get some clear shots with the Windscar, he was going to get surrounded—shit.

No help for it. Straightening, he raised Tessaiga and whirled the glowing blade in a circle. "Oi! Some of you, come down here and keep the panthers off our flanks!" he called out. "You two hawks, keep an eye out for any groups sneaking around, and call in the reserves if they do!" He whirled Tessaiga again, then held it straight up. "For the memory of the Inu no Taisho! Let's send the panthers running!"

A distant roar answered him, and he felt the throng behind him beginning to move. Bringing Tessaiga back down to guard position, Inuyasha started back forward, drifting a bit to the side to keep clear of the duel. He hoped he'd done the right thing. How could you have a battle if the leader didn't give orders? What kind of leader got involved in a duel at the beginning of the fight?

Inuyasha forced himself to stop worrying about it, weighing whether it was worth trying to catch up with the trio, and deciding he didn't want to get in front of Sesshomaru.

The final, flickering thought was that his uncle would have thrashed Sesshomaru for such actions, were he human.

But, maybe that was simply the way youkai did battles.

... ... ...

Toron was not good enough to engage all of his attention, though she was powerful enough, fast enough, and skilled enough to elicit mild respect. Sesshomaru continued to spar, probing for a flaw in her defenses, gradually increasing his speed, testing her limits.

He was perfectly aware of his situation, and a lesser being might have cursed when his brother called on the army to join the attack. His fault, for forgetting that lesser beings needed explanations and orders. Not that it would make any difference in the end.

He hadn't asked for the army's presence, after all.

Toron executed a disengagement move, somersaulted backwards, and danced down the mountainside. "I thought you were the leader, Sesshomaru!" she jeered with a laugh. "So, why is the mere hanyo giving the orders?"

Sesshomaru lunged on the attack, increasing his speed, his external expression unchanged, assessing the situation with cool precision. Inuyasha was scampering back down the slope, moving sideways to clear his range. The lesser siblings were backing away, supporting the wounded brother, who's aura was starting to recover from the poisoned cuts. Not all the panthers were charging, and about half of 'his' army were on their way down. And the hawks had given angry, but assenting squawks to the hanyo's 'orders.'

It was going to be a melee soon, he reflected, even as his fist deflected the blade from a path that would have taken it into his neck, unopposed. A pity his father had been so stupid as to leave the Tessaiga to the idiot hanyo: with the blade, the battle would be over in a few more dozen heartbeats.

He would observe whether or not the hanyo could control the sword on the chaos of the battlefield. If he couldn't, Sesshomaru was going to find a way to break that sword, when Inuyasha proved that he didn't deserve it.

... ... ...

He hadn't responded to her taunt. Worse, Toron was starting to get the sense that she was not even managing to push Sesshomaru to his full strength. Was he still getting faster?

Yes. She was not hard-pressed, yet. She still had the inner space that allowed her to simultaneously track what was going on around her, including the way that the hanyo had easily cut through and destroyed Karan's fireball. Since Sesshomaru hadn't even tried to unsheathe the sword at his hip; that meant it was the hanyo who controlled the 'Tessaiga' and it's reported ability to kill a hundred.

And her clan was charging. They knew they were supposed to surround any inu with a bared sword, but what if the hanyo could get the attack off first?

She felt the first, cold drops from the looming clouds. Hah! Disengaging, she leaped backwards, spinning her lance rapidly in a circle, building a wall of ice. Sesshomaru swept it aside effortlessly, but she was already three lengths into the air, rotating, both hands now keeping the lance spinning, as all about her, the rain turned into hail. A final spin, a spurt of speed that kept her feet just out of reach of Sesshomaru's swipe, and she unleashed a snow- and hail-filled whirl spout directly at the hanyo.

His reflexes were good. He reacted, and swung the blade through the first bits of snow and ice. Golden light flashed and flared, exploding the first bits into nothingness. But, her attack was too diffuse to be handled in a single swing, and as the momentum of the blade to it past the perimeter of the whirl spout, the hanyo was left vulnerable. With a yelp, he disappeared into the rapidly building drift of ice, and Toron whipped higher, and yowled a fresh command, before ducking and flying to rejoin her siblings. She landed with a final loop that brought her facing outward, back to her siblings, her lance straight ahead, as Sesshomaru landed short. The ice drift moved behind him, and then came apart as the hanyo exploded upwards. He landed, shaking his head violently for a few moments, sending ice pieces everywhere. Toron chuckled, hiding her disappointment that the hanyo hadn't been taken out. Nevertheless, her attack had drawn blood, in dozens of tiny scratches along his face and hands, and ruffled cuts in his clothing.

The hanyo would be shedding a lot more blood before this was done.

... ... ...

Ow. That had stung, his pride more than his skin. Why couldn't he have seen it in time to get out of the way?

He glared down the slope, where Toron had rejoined her siblings. He could feel the youki winds shifting among the five auras in front of him: if Sesshomaru were not in the way, he could lunge forward and probably find a scar to slice through before they could all scatter. Damn!

"S—Taisho-sama, give me a shot at them!" he yelled, hoping that—for once—Sesshomaru might take a hint and be gracious about it.

No such luck; of course. A growl answered him. "These are my prey, hanyo. Find your own."

Great. Inuyasha shifted his attention, and swore mentally. The panthers' charge had broken into five distinct streams; one heading directly towards the quartet, the others angling away. Reaching for his awareness of the youkai on his side, Inuyasha realized that he might have made a mistake in calling them down. Even if no one tried to interfere, there was no way he could reach each of the five groups before they merged with the oncoming allies. Damn it!

No help for it now. He'd do what he could. Inuyasha broke into a run, and headed towards the first group on the right.

"After him!"

He heard Toron's yell, and grinned. He increased his speed to his utmost, focusing his attention on his senses, trying to be alert to an attack from any angle.

His grin widened as he felt Sesshomaru move. Hah! Couldn't let one set of 'prey' take out his older 'prey', right?

Focus, hanyo. Inuyasha concentrated on the nearing party, ears flattened against the rain, eyes narrowed. The panthers saw him, and their advance wavered for a moment. Then with shouting, they hurtled themselves forward, spreading apart. Inuyasha growled a little, trying to increase his speed, searching for a windscar to slice through. He could 'see' the flickering clashes between the panthers' youki, though the intensity and frequency were decreasing rapidly. Damn! What was the reach of the blade? If only he could somehow 'push' his aura forward, brush against those auras more quickly, draw out the windscar sooner!

Tessaiga pulsed, and, as if directing him, Inuyasha perceived his aura moving outward with that pulse. Yes! He pushed his energy outward, feeling the blade feeding his own. Closer and closer he came. He saw alarm take hold of a few who veered away. But, most, with flattened ears and raised claws or swords, ran towards him, most on two feet, a few on four. Closer, closer—

Yes!

Inuyasha plunged to a stop as his youki wind crashed against the nearest. Gleaming in the growing darkness, Tessaiga rose. And then, it swung. The glowing, golden-white fang bit into the eldritch clash between youki wind and youki wind—

"Kaze no Kizu!"

... ... ...

_Kaze no Kizu!_

The cry that had not been heard in two centuries, as it rose above the wind and the rain. As the blade cut through the interface between the winds, it released a torrent of the eldritch energy that was the source of youki being. Power and light exploded upwards and outwards, and almost every being on or above the battlefield froze. Thunder rolled, and then with a ripping, howling roar, five golden columns grew and raced away from their source, pulverizing air above and ground below. The panthers in the path froze, or tried to run. They failed, as the edges of their youki auras were caught, and exploded, ripping the bodies apart, giving only some enough time to scream. The darkness of the storm was illuminated by a growing, devouring light.

It lasted forever, it seemed. Or, perhaps, but a handful of heartbeats. It was a holocaust; though brief and contained. It faded, the spreading furrows of destruction fading, the gashes in the ground growing more shallow. The gray semi-dark retook control.

But, for a long moment, only the wind, and the rain spoke, as nearly every eye stared at the five spreading, smoking furrows.

_Kaze no Kizu._


	38. Battle, Part II: Interference

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 37: Battle, Part II: Interference**

They were bound to Karan, body and soul.

They were born runts, unable to stand two-footed, unable to manifest clothing, or to shape their forepaws into something that could hold human things. Fog lacked even vocal speech. As runts, as kittens with questionable blood, they could have been killed out of hand. Should have been killed, many said, and the opprobrium towards their mother for not killing them at birth was part of what drove her away. The silver and gray kittens would have been happy to go into exile at her side, loyal to the dam who had nursed them, but, while she had given them milk, ultimately, she refused them love, and turned away.

They would have been forced from the clan after her departure, but Karan intervened. She protected them, cared for them, taught them, encouraged them. She saw the hints of their possible skills, and helped them develop their gifts and weak youki to become virtually invisible—to sight, to scent, to youki. Under her care and encouragement, they grew confident, walking with heads up and tails lifted, not challenging anyone, but not shrinking into themselves, either.

And, for all that, they devoted themselves to her, utterly and without question. Before the four siblings went out to confront the dogs, Karan ordered the pair to wait and rest. But, though Fog was exhausted, Mist and her sister looked at each other, and chose to disobey. Four-footed ghosts, they trotted after the airborne siblings. Crouched on the ground, unnoticed by dog, or cat, they listened to the initial words and insults, then watched with frightened awe as the first blows were exchanged.

Horrified, trembling, they watched the Windscar attack, and the destruction of dozens of their clan-mates: people they'd known their entire lives. Panthers who had ignored them or scorned them, perhaps, but still of one blood. Of one clan.

And a single dog, with a single sweep of his blade, had destroyed them all.

Pale blue eyes met those of bottomless black. Whiskers arched and touched, and then the eldest moved her muzzle to rest against her sister's pricked ear. "We have to do something," she muttered. "We have to stop him."

Fog blinked her black eyes and nodded her head, then gave a very quiet, questioning mew. "We sneak up on him … and … um … do something. Bite him, take the sword away."

Fog twisted her ears down and gave Mist an uncertain look. "We have to try!" Mist insisted. "Next time, it might be Karan…"

The smaller feline's tabby fur, though plastered flat to her body from the rain, moved in a shiver. She looked away, dropped her head to lick the top of her paw, stared at the ground, and only after a long pause brought her head up and bumped her body against Mist's, with a tiny, sad chirp. Mist breathed out and briefly groomed Fog's ear. "You are so brave, my little sister," she breathed. "Let's go."

They stilled themselves a moment, inner selves checking that their invisibility was intact. Then, invisible, they trotted through the wind and the rain, towards their red-clad goal.

… … …

Tōran stared at the smoking ground, stunned beyond words. The described ability of Tessaiga—"killing a hundred with a single sweep"—the words did not begin to convey the horrible reality. Her people—her friends, her supporters, even her would-be rivals—swept out of existence by a single blow of a single sword. They were gone: their scents, their auras. There was nothing of them left—nothing! Only a few screams, as they were all obliterated, erased.

A low, chuckle whispered behind her. "If a hanyo could to that with Tessaiga, what do you think I could do with it?"

She jerked around to face Sesshomaru, knowing her shock and horror must be plain on her face, yet unable to control her reaction. He looked down at her, less than half a length from her, looming over her, his expression one of cruel amusement. "You cannot defeat this one, panther leader," he purred. "Perhaps that pathetic hanyo, you could overcome, with enough bodies, but you cannot defeat this one, any more than your former master could defeat my sire."

"It is not over yet," she spat, trying to spit defiance into his face. "We will destroy that hanyo, and then we will destroy you, son of the Inu no Taisho! You think we cannot tell? You are but a shadow of that dog, and we will take you out, and then we will use all the western lands as our hunting ground!"

She did not even see him move. Tōran found her neck in his hand, her toes barely in touch with the ground, and his lambent eyes a bare few hand spans from her own. "This 'shadow' is greater than all your clan together," he hissed. "The hanyo alone, with Tessaiga to hand, is capable of destroying you, and he lives only because I permit it. Even as I permitted you match your weapon against my bare hands...and found you lacking. Shall we watch, to see how many of your people the hanyo will kill, before they all run away?" He shifted his stance, and she was forced to look in the direction of that glowing sword. The hanyo was starting to move … slowly. She could see beyond him, see the still, shocked group towards which he was heading. Tōran started to draw a breath, intending to yowl an order to scatter, but the hand choked her in an instant. "Silence," Sesshomaru commanded. "All of you. Or I shall see how long your sister can scream."

… … …

This time, Inuyasha saw the effect of the windscar. A bit stunned, frozen at the end of his swing, he watched as the attack obliterated the panthers. Something close to awe touched him, as he realized just how mighty a weapon his father had bequeathed him.

Finally, he remembered to breathe, and pulled Tessaiga back to a guard position. A quick look around with eyes and youki senses, and he realized that almost everyone was frozen, staring at him in shock. The only exception appeared to be the panther quartet who were currently being engaged by Sesshomaru.

Glee began to filter through his awareness. They were afraid of him! Youkai were afraid! The dream of becoming youkai, in order to be respected, to be feared: he had what he wanted. Tessaiga had given him the core of his dream back. They feared him.

Inuyasha smiled, as the joy rose in him. Slowly, he began to stalk towards the group to the right, swinging the glowing blade just a little. He saw them recognize his approach, saw them shrink back, eyes wild, frozen with indecision. He grinned, savoring their fear, savoring his growing elation. He pushed his youki forward, searching for that first brush of wind against wind, for that clash through which he could cut. He felt the eyes on him, heard his brother speaking to Tōran, with his evident plan to allow Inuyasha the freedom of the battlefield.

Inwardly, he exulted.

He stalked towards the panthers, Tessaiga the focus of the world, the avatar of death, and destruction. _He_ was the bringer of death, of destruction.

And it felt so good.

So delicious…

… … …

Transformed to his true self, Cheiriyo could not help but tremble. Even muted by the rain, the rancid smell of the panthers recalled his worst memories. While those who had stayed behind hollered and cheered over the results of Inuyasha's use of Tessaiga, he could not stop trembling. Inuyasha once again reminded him of the great Inu no Taisho, but it was the reminder of the basic inimical difference between himself and the Dog General and his son. At heart, in instinct, they were predators. They were closer to that nightmare base of most youkai—the instinct and desire for destruction, of blood lust. They might stop themselves from killing, save at perceived need, but it was in their blood to enjoy the killing. To enjoy the spilling of blood.

He was too far distant to perceive the details of Inuyasha's aura, as the hanyo started after the second group of panthers. But, he did not need to. He could see the slight, unnecessary movement of the sword, could see the slow, measured movements of the stalk, could see the shrinking reaction even at this distance.

The panthers had destroyed his people. Most of the culprits of the deed had in turn been slain by the Inu no Taisho, but the grouped panthers were of the same clan. The same blood. Those threatened panthers would, no doubt, have done the same thing to his people, given opportunity.

He should hate them. Should take joy in their oncoming death, should see vengeance for the cruel death of his once herd.

But, all he really wished for was that they would turn and flee. That they would try to escape.

That they would abandon their war.

… … …

_Sister! He turns to attack! Hurry!_

Thought flowed between the siblings, the pale-coated litter-mates. Fog and Mist shifted speed from a slow, cautious trot to a full gallop. Unseen, unheard, they ran through the storm, circling slightly to come in from behind.

They knew they could not defeat the hanyo if it came to a fight: they were the weakest members of their clan. They knew that if they were caught in that sword's attack, they would be instantly killed.

They charged ahead, anyways. Not for the sake of the threatened clan members, not really. For _Karan's_ sake they moved, for payment of all she had done for them. For caring, as she must be caring now, in horror and terror, of what would happen to her people.

Fog and Mist knew they were going to die—and didn't care. As long as they stopped him.

As long as they made Karan proud of them.

… … …

There was no warning, for Fog and Mist were as unnoticeable as the leading edge of their namesakes. Concentrating on the foe before him, Inuyasha did not hear them. He did not smell them. And their youki were so weak that even in contact with his extended aura, there was no clash of youki winds. He had raised Tessaiga; ready to swing as soon as he found the first clash of youki winds...

Jaws that were powerful enough—even in a mortal feline—to severe the spinal column of a full grown deer, sank into his neck as Mist threw her full weight on him from behind. Even as he staggered, a smaller set of jaws bit down on his left wrist.

Panic spiked through Inuyasha as he felt the jaws closing on his neck. He did not feel his wrist shattering, did not feel Tessaiga dropping from his hands. There was only the sound of breaking, shattering vertebrae and the flash of pain, and a single, mental shriek of shock, denial—and rage.

_NO!_

… … …

Mist gave a final tug and then released her grip, skittering backwards. Fog rolled to her feet and joined her, her jaws as blood-stained as her sister's. Panting, they stared at the body. The momentum of their attacks had twisted him as he fell. He was on his left side, his sightless eyes staring upwards into the rain, the once-glowing sword now laying a good length from one foot, appearing no more than a rusted, tattered, powerless blade.

"We … did it?" Mist whispered, starting to shake. "We really … did it?"

They had really managed to kill the hanyo?

… … …

Cheiriyo reared and bolted down the mountain slope as he saw Inuyasha crumple to the ground, his mind a shout of denial. He knew that there was nothing his herbs, nor his spells could do to save the hanyo's life. Yet, he could not simply stand and watch. He had seen this happen before. He had seen his aunt go down in the first wave of the attack, and his sister. He had failed. He had failed, again! The herd leader he had been belled his loss and his rage, charging towards those who had struck down one he had protected.

… … …

Only at the very last instant, did even Sesshomaru's superior senses detect anything. And even then, all he perceived were two feline ghosts leaping towards his focused, and oblivious half-brother. They were weak ghosts, their youki barely existent, and in the split second before they reached their goal, he assumed that their attack would fail.

When Inuyasha went down, head lolling at an unnatural angle, Sesshomaru froze in utter shock. It simply wasn't possible. The hanyo—_his_ prey—could not fall to a simple, physical attack! And to two weak youkai cats, no less! It could not be! It could not! His half-brother could not be that stupid! Could not be that vulnerable! Could not be that—that insulting—

… … …

Tōran saw the hanyo drop and knew that the battle had abruptly turned. As she felt Sesshomaru's stunned reaction, she moved, grabbing the hand around her throat and breaking free. "Attack!" she howled, even as she grabbed Sesshomaru's armor and invoked every bit of her freezing power. "Sibs, on me!" she yelled, "We've got to keep Sesshomaru away from the sword!"

Shuran answered with a roar and lunged forward, arms reaching to tackle. Sesshomaru belatedly reacted, snapping forward a hand that took Tōran in the chest and threw her back, and then skipping lightly backwards, avoiding Shuran's effort entirely. The next moment, he was gone. Staggering backwards, trying to keep her balance, Touron glimpsed a shimmer of white heading towards the downed hanyo. "After him!" she cried, calling the lance back to her hand. "We can't let him get the sword!"

… … …

Fury boiled within Sesshomaru as he leaped: not towards his brother, or Tessaiga, but towards his brother's killers. How dare Inuyasha shame his inu blood by dying in a simple attack from two cats! To die of a simple bite! Of a broken neck! How dare he!

And how dare they! Sesshomaru swept down on the barely-visible felines and caught both up them up by their throats. The weight in his hands proved that they were hardly ghosts, though that mattered not at all. He raised them high enough that their faces were on a level with his, and glared at them, his rage visible. "You dared?"

The smaller merely stared at him with unreadable black eyes, her front paws clawing fruitlessly at his hand. The larger one glared back, ears flat, and hissed at him. "What dare?" she snarled. "He would have killed more of our people! Kill me if you want, dog, I care not! I have killed the Inu no Taisho's son!"

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed, a growl trembling in his throat. "You will die very slowly, cat," he said, "and I will make all of your people watch—"

Something _changed_, and something went _'crack.'_ Sesshomaru snapped his head around to look at his half-brother, whose smell was changing. That was startling enough, but then he saw that the open eyes were glowing—_red_.

Inuyasha's head jerked sideways, with another 'cracking' noise. Disbelieving, Sesshomaru watched, his hands unconsciously lowering, as the head jerked a third time. And, then, in a sudden move, Inuyasha was on his feet, whirling to face Sesshomaru. His aura flared and fluoresced with more power than Sesshomaru had ever seen in the hanyo, and he noticed that the human elements of Inuyasha's smell had vanished. He smelled _youkai_.

Inuyasha chuckled, a low, throaty sound that _hanyo_ Inuyasha had never made. He grinned, and Sesshomaru saw that the fangs extended far below the hanyo's lips. Inuyasha cracked his knuckles, spreading his fingers, displaying claws that were now more like daggers, each nearly as long as his fingers.

Sesshomaru felt the same shiver down his backbone as he had some days before, as he realized what it was he was confronting. This was Inuyasha with his taiyoukai blood unbound and dominate. It had saved his life and healed his neck. But, this was also the state which hanyo Inuyasha had feared, enough to beg for help from his hated brother.

Flinging away the two felines—who were no longer of any concern to him—Sesshomaru took a step forward, recapturing the gaze of red eyes which had started to follow the arc of the larger cat. "Inuyasha?"

The glowing, red eyes met his own, and Sesshomaru saw neither awareness nor sanity in their gaze. The transformed hanyo chuckled again.

And then, he leaped.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Characters do unexpected things. I added Fog & Mist to the story only as a means of giving the panthers some information about what they were facing. I didn't know that they going to play a role in a critical plot turn! I always planned for Inuyasha to transform during the battle, but I didn't know that they were going to be the cause!

Next time: **Battle, Part 3: _Blood Unbound!_**

(12/30/12)


	39. Battle, Part III: Blood Unbound

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 38: Battle Part III—Blood Unbound**

One being's action can trigger a mob. As Cheiriyo bounded through the youkai who had stayed behind, and who had watched in glee and then been struck silent in shock: his belling cry of grief and rage caught their attention and their emotions. His cry echoed from a hundred throats, and then, they followed.

So did the second group, further down the mountain. Dozens—hundreds—followed the maddened akashihi down the mountain towards their foes…

… … …

The quartet's run stumbled as they saw Inuyasha jump to his feet. "What?" exclaimed Karan. "I thought he was dead! I heard Mist say she killed him!"

"His youki!" cried Shunran, lifting one arm as if to ward off an attack. "It's grown! It's—huge!"

The hanyo leapt at Sesshomaru. The daiyoukai danced backwards for a dozen lengths, and then smashed the hanyo away with a closed fist to the jaw. The hanyo sailed away, landed hard, and was immediately on his feet dashing back towards Sesshomaru, growling, hands extended, ready to claw.

"What's going on?" wondered Shuran. "Why is he attacking Sesshomaru?"

The roar upslope made them pivot. The entire, opposing army was charging downhill in two sections, led by an akashihi bounding crazily down the slope, his horns streaming green and blue youki—

A what? Tōran's thoughts momentarily came to a floundering halt, as she recognized a youkai who should not exist—a youkai whose herd's extermination had somehow had warned the Inu no Taisho of the invasion and gotten him involved before the Master was ready for him.

She pulled her thoughts back to the present with an effort. "Get the troops moving!" she rasped, recognizing that they were on the verge of entering chaos. "Shunran, Karan, get the north and central groups around the dogs, and find that sword! Shuran, call in the south troops to attack the their flank—and stay with me—I'm taking out that akashihi!"

The quartet split, three of them yowling orders as they ran. Tōran spun her lance and then focused her power through it, sending the youki out to the ground. Water rapidly froze in expanding zigs and zags, sending streaks of ice upwards and outwards. The nearest youkai started to slip and fall as the sloping ground turned treacherous. The akashihi; however, bounded over one rapidly growing streak, and then continued his path downward, leaping back and forth, moving with complete balance, every cloven footfall assured and solid. Tōran remembered the lore that the akashihi was the most sure-footed of any four-footed youkai, and cursed. Spinning the lance, she sent a whirl spout of ice and snow, like the one that had buried the hanyo. The akashihi cried out, reared, swung his horned head, and green and blue streamers of power slammed into her miniature storm and deflected it. He came down onto all four feet, and another flash of blue and green lashed out between his horns, whirling in a tight spiral, and slammed into Tōran, throwing her back. She felt an instant of astonishment, and then she landed on her back—hard.

And Cheiriyo bounded on, his blood madness undimmed.

… … …

The transformed Inuyasha was much faster than his normal form, though still not up to the pure youkai's own speed. Sesshomaru established that first. The maddened hanyo's face was clear of any mar by the time he came within range. Easily avoiding or blocking the beweaponed hands, Sesshomaru cooly and precisely slashed through Inuyasha's belly with envenomed claws. The hanyo didn't even flinch or falter, and his growls developed no hint of pain. Sesshomaru threw him back again: the transformed hanyo rolled, gathered his feet under him, and sprang back with untouched fervor, the rips in his skin already closing.

At the next approach, Sesshomaru snatched at Inuyasha's wrists. He avoided a kick, collected both wrists into one powerful hand, and then used the freed hand to grab Inuyasha's hair and pull back his head. The maddened Inuyasha snarled and thrashed, but even this state could not match Sesshomaru's full strength. Holding the hanyo, ignoring the occasional wild kick that connected with his legs, Sesshomaru concentrated for a long moment on everything he could sense from the maddened hanyo.

There was no fear. There was no pain. There was bliss that yearned for blood and death: Inuyasha's smell was dominated by that blood lust. Youkai blood and youkai lust, and nothing else, save a very faint hint of … something. Something that was being eroded away.

Sesshomaru heard the roaring, and knew that his supporters were finally joining the attack. He could hear the yowls of the panthers as they also charged towards the piece of ground where he and his captive stood.

He was tempted to simply throw Inuyasha into the nearest body of panthers, and let the maddened fool destroy their foes until they were gone, or until the hanyo was cut down.

But, it was not a strong temptation, because Sesshomaru despised the thought as soon as it came to him. Inuyasha's fate was his to decide. And he refused to let the hanyo die in this disgusting, shameful state of madness, with no more awareness than some common lowlife, youkai scum.

No one bearing inu daiyoukai blood would be allowed to die such a miserable death.

But, how could he force the hanyo back into his normal state?

He had no clue, and he was running out of time. The panthers were surrounding him, his own 'army' moments from colliding with them, which would send the battle into chaos. And, while the lesser panthers might be might be hesitating to throw themselves on him, he was going to be attacked as soon as Tōran and her sibs got themselves reorganized.

He could guess how the transformation happened—its cause was obvious—the death blow. Inuyasha had an extremely powerful will to live. The shock of the blow and that will to live had obviously shattered whatever new control Inuyasha had found to lock down his daiyoukai blood. But, how did Sesshomaru get the control back into place? How?

Any other youkai, and Sesshomaru would have taken the simple approach, and destroyed the maddened youkai. But, he would not—could not—do that to Inuyasha. He would not kill his brother, when the hanyo wasn't even aware of himself! He would not stoop that low!

"Inuyasha!" The bellow snapped Sesshomaru's head around. He'd been aware that the akashihi—displaying more power than any mere elk youkai had a right to—had taken Tōran by surprise and thrown her back, and had then started working through the throng of panthers gathering around the two inu. Now, Sesshomaru saw, the elk had broken through the ring.

"Let him go!" The elk reared, presenting his broad horns, fresh streamers of youki twining along their ribbed lengths, and Sesshomaru cursed to himself, recognizing the significance of the red eyes. The elk was in a berzerker mode, unable to be reasoned with. Sesshomaru, at that moment, was tempted to throw Inuyasha into the elk, just to see what the two maddened idiots would do to each other. But, the cold logic of his battle instincts pointed out that setting two of his own against each other was a waste and a bad idea. And abruptly, Sesshomaru realized that if there were one individual on the entire battlefield who might know the answer to Inuyasha's unbound state, it had to be the akashihi healer.

Shifting his grip, Sesshomaru tossed Inuyasha into the gathered panthers on the opposite side of the throng from the elk, and then immediately turned his attention to the akashihi. Before the elk could react to Inuyasha's release, Sesshomaru stepped up beside the elk, and grabbed hold of one horn and the elk's muzzle. Ignoring the youki buzzing against his hands, Sesshomaru pulsed his own youki—hard.

The elk jerked and wailed in pain, and then sagged against Sesshomaru, front knees buckling. Holding the beast up with sheer force, Sesshomaru shook the elk's head. "Listen to me, you fool!" he hissed. "I need the healer, not the herd master! Answer me, Cheiriyo!"

Blue flickered in the one visible red eye. Sesshomaru gave the youkai another shake. The eye closed, and Sesshomaru felt the nostrils of the elk flaring against the palm of his hand as the elk breathed in.

"Taisho-sama?" A blue eye focused on him.

Sesshomaru glared back into that eye, not releasing the elk. "Inuyasha's blood is out of control," he grated, keeping his voice low. "It was under control when he arrived—what happened?"

The blue eye widened slightly. "The sword. Myoga said—Inuyasha has to stay in contact with the sword."

Sesshomaru cursed himself for being a fool. He should have known.

… … ...

"Sister!" A big paw of a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. "What happened? Are you okay? What is that youkai—never saw one like it!"

Tōran cursed, unable to believe she had been knocked down by a mere elk! "Akashihi," she grated, calling her lance back to hand. "They were supposed to have been destroyed at the start of the last war." She looked around to see the elk in the middle of the throng surrounding the two inu, individual panthers flying away from him as he surged through the crowd. "I want that elk took alive," she added viciously. She saw the enemy youkai pile into the gap which the akashihi had made, and heard the yowls as her more distant troops raced towards the general melee. In the middle of the nearer fight, she could just see Sesshomaru and Inuyasha in the center of things, but none of her people had yet dared attack them. "Let's get back to our sisters," she said in a low voice. "We've got to join forces if we're to have a chance to kill those dogs. Let's just hope they've found the sword."

That sword would turn the battle in favor of whoever managed to take it and control it. Tōran knew she would not forget the sight of watching nearly one in six of her fighters destroyed in a single swing. Nothing would be more satisfying than to turn the sword against the two dogs and their followers.

Except that she'd really rather destroy them with her own strengths, and those of her sibs. They had trained for centuries, since the old dog had destroyed the master, training to increase their skills, to one day take the war back to the dogs. Victory would taste sweeter if it came at the point of her ice lance, or Karan's balls of fire or Shunran's lightning.

Still, if it were the only way, she would try to use that hell sword.

… … …

They cowered, hoping that the fighting would not roll over them. Mist had taken advantage of the sudden dog-on-dog fight to bolt to her sister's side. But, her pride and defiance had fallen apart—how could the hanyo have come back alive? She had broken his neck! She had heard his heart stop! How could he still live, and with more power than ever? She didn't understand!

Beneath her protective crouch, Fog whimpered. Ducking her head, Mist began to groom the scratches on her sister's shoulder. They still smelled and tasted of poison. Why Fog had been poisoned by the big dog while she had not, Mist didn't know. But, she could feel the heat in the broken skin as she licked at the injuries, and it scared her.

They had to get out of the area, she decided. "Get up, little sister," she whispered, nudging the smaller feline. Fog tried to stand up, then collapsed with a whimper.

Hurts.

"Shh, little sister." Mist looked around, saw that foes nearest to her were clearly aiming on joining the growing melee, and then dropped down to the ground, as close to Fog as she could. "Climb aboard, little sister. I'll carry you."

Fog lifted her head, shakily, and then pushed herself up. Slowly, claws prickling, the smaller cat pulled herself onto the larger. When Fog seemed set, Mist carefully rose to her feet. Claws sank into her shoulders and flanks. She paused a moment to make sure that the smaller feline felt set. "Concentrate on hiding yourself, Fog," she murmured. "I'll get us out of here." She looked around in the dark and the rain, grateful for both, and chose her path. Then, one careful foot at a time, Mist started across the slopes. She had been willing to die, especially if she could take out one of their foes.

But, truthfully, she still wanted to live.

As long as her sister did.

… … …

The momentum of the various charges transmitted itself to the throng around Sesshomaru, collapsing the open space about him. Those closest paid the price as Sesshomaru whirled, claws out, slashing through necks. Cheiriyo kicked behind him, shattering ribs, and then swung his head sideways, then up, rearing to complete the throw of two screaming panthers off his massive horns. "The sword!" he cried as he came back down. "Where is it, taisho?"

"This way!" Sesshomaru moved forward, lashing out and breaking the necks of the two nearest him, tossing them out of the way as he moved. He knew precisely where the sword had been, and moved towards it, refusing the let the thought emerge that he should regret having tested the mad Inuyasha's speed by moving backwards. "Behind me, akashihi!" Not that he needed the elk to protect his back. But, since he was not willing to test Tessaiga's resistance to his hand in the middle of battle, he had to have a way to unite hanyo and sword, without touching the latter.

The panthers tried to stop his advance. It did them no good, as they were thrown back against the others and occasionally above them, necks broken or necks opened. Sesshomaru was a killing machine, relentless, his youki flaring high, making the bravest panther quail, even as they futilely attacked. His hair moved in an unseen wind, unaffected by the rain, and the spouting blood from the necks he slashed faded and vanished as soon as any of it hit his silks or his armor.

Behind him, Cheiriyo actually had nothing to do, though he kept in constant motion, head swinging, eyes wide and nose questing, as he made sure no one tried to sneak up to him. His eyes flickered between red and blue for a while, but the red began to dominate, as he sank himself into the long-abandoned role and called to him the base nature he had long despised.

And, then, he did have something to do, as he spotted a fireball racing towards them. Rearing, he cried out, and the blue and green streamers of his power struck the fireball and diverted its path downward, into the panthers.

… … …

Tōran and Shunran joined their two sibs at last, having had to fight off a number of their lesser foes. "Tōran, Shunran!" Karan cried in relief as they joined her. "We can't stop them! I've tried fireballs on both of them! Inuyasha just ignores them, acts as if he doesn't feel them! And the elk deflects them into our own people!

""What about the sword?" demanded Tōran, scanning the shrieking, yelling melee.

"No one can touch it!" replied Shuran. "I tried myself—it burned my hand, and threw me back!"

Tōran cursed, and looked again, before slashing out with her blade as a large, bear-like youkai roared and tried to swipe at her. "We'll take out Sesshomaru first," she decided. "He's more powerful, and he's killing faster." Watching either was a stomach-churning experience, between the sheer effortlessness on the one hand, or the insane laughing that was accompanying the other. "We'll have to combine our powers."

The two sisters gave Tōran a sharp look. It was something the quartet had only done a few times in practice: something that Tōran at that moment regretted not having done more often. "He's more powerful than I expected," she explained tersely. "He's still so young, I thought he'd be less powerful, more vulnerable. But, look at him." His youki was a blazing, simmering 'sun' in the dark, and from the brief glimpses, she knew he had not one battle wound—in sharp contrast to his brother, whose robes were at least as red from blood, as from their natural color, and whose hands and face were covered with blood and gore.

"What about the other power casters—those behind us?" asked Shunran. "Can we bring them in as well?"

Tōran considered just a moment. "If they're willing. Pass the word—and the rest, keep the other army off our flanks. We'll need to take time to build the power…"

"Done!" Karan yowled out the orders as Tōran snapped her lance down into the two handed position, and braced herself.

"Let's do this," she said.

"For the Master!" declared Shunran, reaching out to take hold of the lance.

"For the Master!" others echoed, not just the siblings. The cry was taken up by the surrounding panthers, rippling outward, as two other hands grasped the lance. It began to glow, and Tōran felt the milling behind her, and then paws touched her back, simmering with the power of one of her stronger lieutenants. "For the master!" he roared, and she felt the fire as he released his youki strength.

The lance pulsed, glittering in a growing haze of multiple colors….

… … …

Sesshomaru reached a weak, low-populated portion of the mass of bodies, and found Tessaiga. As he exerted his power, the inu youkai ripped his hands back and forth, widening the bare spot. "Guard the blade, akashihi!" he ordered "And make sure Inuyasha comes in contact with it!"

"What?"

He ignored the question, leaping into the air. He could feel the power growing from where the quartet of panther leaders stood, and knew their intent, but, at that moment, he had another matter on his mind. Moving at top speed, he flashed towards the spot where the still-crazed hanyo was fighting. He landed behind Inuyasha, smashing aside a knife that was poised to enter the transformed hanyo's back. Sesshomaru grabbed Inuyasha's arms and leaped back into the air, trying to ignore the thick wash of Inuyasha's blood, and the miasma of gore that seemed to overlay every fingertip of the hanyo's skin and clothing. The beast couldn't even defend itself, Sesshomaru realized with disgust. Looking for the hole he'd created in the mob around the quiescent sword, he saw the elk standing above it.

"Back off, akashihi!" he roared, shifting his grip on the mindlessly struggling, yowling, transformed Inuyasha. "Now!" He saw the elk rear and hop backwards, tossing his head back, and forth. Like ribbons, blue and green were woven along the edges of the ragged circle, pushing the panthers—and some few others—back.

Sesshomaru threw his brother towards the only thing in the universe that might save him…

… … …

Not even the best warrior is invulnerable. Especially at the moment when that warrior is concerned with another's fate; is acting on another's behalf.

Sesshomaru threw, and, at that moment, became the perfect target; his motion minimized to perfect his aim, his concentration on his throw. He knew the panthers were building power, and knew he was the most probable target, but, at that moment, the thought was not on his mind. His right arm out-thrust, his attention on the falling body of his half-brother, he was vulnerable.

The four sibs, locked into sharing the power, guided by Tōran's powerful will, recognized that moment of vulnerability. The needle-pointed lance swung up and over at full speed, and the gathering power was unleashed in a single, glittering, spiralling, ferocious beam of energy.

It hit Sesshomaru's arm and shoulder with the massive power of a battering ram, and with the gathered power of ice and fire and lightning, mingled with the threads of several dozen other powers, slamming into him and into his flesh with the gathered, inimical youki. He flew sideways, the beam of power following his trajectory, as his arm burned and then began to unravel, and the only thought in his head was a gasp of shock and pain.

He fell, the beam staying on him, ravening with the power of youkai who were not of daiyoukai strength, but whose gathered power came close. How far the power might have gnawed at Sesshomaru's flesh, would not be known, however, as another intervened.

Power pulsed, and then black light flared and wrapped itself around the youkai. The beam shattered with a flash of pure white, in blinding intensity, momentarily turning night into coruscating day. Unknown numbers of youkai cried out, futilely shielding their eyes, momentarily stopping the fighting.

And when light faded and the night returned, Sesshomaru was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, I'm not going to finish this story in 2012, since there are less than two hours (local time) left. But the count is down to 2, maybe three chapters. There should be just one more chapter covering the battle itself. If all goes well (which things didn't, yesterday on the 30th), that chapter will be posted tomorrow evening. The title? _**Sacrifice**_

(12/31/2012)


	40. Battle, Part IV: Sacrifice

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 39: Battle, Part IV—Sacrifice**

He remembered the fangs in his neck and the descending darkness that meant death. So, what was he doing facedown on cold, wet ground with Tessaiga underneath him, with blood smell absolutely saturating the air?

"Inuyasha-sama? Inuyasha-sama, can you hear me? The Taisho's disappeared!"

For a moment, the scared voice made no sense. And then, Inuyasha found himself on his feet, Tessaiga to hand, ice in his stomach and his ears ringing with the yowls of jubilant panthers. Holding Tessaiga against him, he spun in a fast circle, taking in the panthers that surrounded him, the elk youkai who was on his rear feet, dancing away from him, whose aura was ragged with distress and fear. And, upslope, the non-panthers who were Sesshomaru's army, standing either stock still, or bolting up the mountainslope in obvious panic.

Inuyasha cursed. "Watch my back, Cheiriyo!" he snapped, spinning to face north, where none of their 'army' were standing. "We're getting out of here!"

The panthers were so close, that finding a clash in the youkai winds was pathetically easy. Hard and fast, Inuyasha slashed through the 'scar,' and, once again, felt the explosive power boiling up and blazing outward. The roar of the attack shattering the ground swallowed up the yells and the screams.

"Let's go!" Inuyasha shouted, jumping out of the former circle, crossing the furrows to head towards the closest cluster of 'his' army. "And tell me what the hell happened to Sesshomaru!"

… … …

The flash of blinding light and the bounce-back of energy slammed into Touran. She cried out, and would have been thrown backwards, save for the supporting hands on her back. As it was, the lance bounded out of her hands, and she fell to her knees, blinded and dazed.

Silence fell for several long moments. Spots danced before her eyes, but the ice-wielding panther closed her eyes and concentrated on her own aura. Opening her eyes, she found the spots had disappeared, and she realized that she was on her hands and knees. Groping for the lance, she pulled it to her, and then used it to climb to her feet.

"Did we … do it?" whispered one of her sisters. Looking around, Touran saw that her siblings and supporters had mostly been tossed to the ground by the aftermath of their attack. The attack which had … she looked at the spot where Sesshomaru had been floating when they had unleashed their joined forces. She looked around further, and saw … nothing.

"I …. can't feel him." Touran glanced at her sister Shunran, who was up on her knees, her fingers on her temples. Checking her own youkai senses, Touran realized that the massive, unmistakable aura that belonged to the dog youkai was … gone.

"We did it?" Karan staggered to her feet, her eyes wild and her nostrils flared as she looked around. Then, her uncertain expression changed, growing a ferocious grin. "We did it!" she yelled, jumping up and down. "We did it! We did it! We killed the Inu no Taisho's son!"

"Yes!" roared their brother, pumping a fist as his grin grew to match Karan's. "The war is ours! We've won!"

The panthers near them took up the cry, staring to cheer and yowl. The realization spread rapidly. Looking upslope, Touran saw elements of the dog's army starting to turn and flee, while others looked paralyzed with shock.

Yet, despite the clear lack of any flicker of power that could be defined as Sesshomaru's, Touran felt uneasy. She remained silent as the rejoicing yowls grew. They had _defeated_ the dog: that was unquestionable. But, killed him? Without a body, she wasn't sure she could believe that. And there was something … something not quite right—

She was reminded of what they were missing, when an exploding roar overwhelmed the cheers. Snapping her head around, Touran felt her face pale as she saw an attack—identical to the hanyo's earlier one—blaze through a quarter of the panthers gathered in the near vicinity. Then, even as the attack was still hammering its thunderous path outward, consuming every panther in its path, she saw the hanyo and the akashihi dash upslope, turned into silhouettes against the ravening fury of the attack.

Karan gasped. "The hanyo! How does he do that! He was dead, then he was fighting like a lunatic! He should be dead! How can he do this to us!"

Touran felt very, very cold, as she finally began to understand why Sesshomaru had been in the air, and vulnerable. She remembered his leaping into the air, with his red-clad half-brother in his hands. Remembered glimpsing the hanyo being flung through the air just as she released the gathered power.

_Sesshomaru had known that the Inuyasha without his sword was a different creature from the one with it. He had to have decided that getting Inuyasha back with his sword was more important to the dogs' victory, than his own powers. He had deliberately risked himself—_sacrificed_ himself—to unite hanyo and Tessaiga._

Touran denied the conclusion. It couldn't be! No youkai—especially one of daiyoukai potential—would put himself in harm's way for the sake of a mere hanyo! It just wasn't done! And, yet, was that not precisely what Sesshomaru had done? He _must_ have sensed the growing power of her and her sibs' combined attack, must have known he would be its primary target, and yet, he hadn't hesitated. He had grabbed his brother, hovered in midair, leaving himself open as he threw the hanyo to the ground, and paying the price…

"Sister!" Touran twitched as a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up at Shuran, whose face, even in the darkness, had clearly paled. "That hanyo—what are we going to do? He's killed so many, and with only two swings of that sword! What are we going to do?"

Touran tightened her grip on her lance, as she forced her shock and uncertainty over Sesshomaru's deeds and fate out of her mind. "We kill him," she said. "The same way we did his brother."

"But, how?" Shuran demanded. "That attack of his—!"

Touran clenched her jaw, watching the panthers further upslope scatter as Inuyasha charged through them. "I'm not sure. But, we'll manage. He can't be stronger than Sesshomaru: that's just not possible. We combine our strength again, and then…" She trailed off, as her imagination failed at that point, save for the thought of that horrendous attack of the hanyo heading towards _them_. "We…"

"We attack from a distance."

Touran snapped her head around, to look at Karan who had spoken up. "What?"

Karan's expression was angry and determined. "He has to get up close to use that attack, didn't you notice?" she said. "He ran towards our people that first time: he wasn't more than a few lengths away when he swung that sword. The second time, he was surrounded by our people. We attack him, before he closes with us."

Touran studied her sister, then nodded slowly. She herself had not seen the start of either attack. But, she trusted Karan's report and instincts. "I think you're right," she said after a moment. "You're right … so this is what we'll do."

… … …

The cats scattered before his approach. Inuyasha ignored them, not being in a position to use a windscar on them, without risking the lives of the panicking youkai on his side. Recognizing one of them, he yelled. "Oi! Ryokan! Hold up—the battle's not over yet!"

The thickset, wolf-headed youkai hesitated, looking around. "But, didn't you see it?" he asked, fear in his voice. "They destroyed Sesshomaru-sama! If they can destroy him, they can destroy all of us! We have to flee!"

"You're just making yourself targets by running!" Inuyasha snapped. "And I don't believe they killed Sesshomaru! They're not that damn strong! Sure, they did something to him, something that made him leave, but no way did they kill him!"

"How would you know?" asked one of the other youkai, turning around. "I saw it! He vanished!"

"So? You know how fast Sesshomaru is! Even I can barely track him, when he's at full speed!"

"Then, why hasn't he come back? Why did he disappear?"

"I don't know," admitted Inuyasha. "I just know: he's got to be still alive!" He smacked his chest with his free hand. "I'd feel it, here, if he were dead!" He lifted Tessaiga, tightening its grip, and it pulsed visibly. "Tessaiga would know! It's made from a fang of the old man himself—our father—don't you think it would know!"

The youkai exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably. Inuyasha glared at them, acutely aware that he had his back to the panthers who had defeated Sesshomaru, but knowing that he needed to persuade Ryokan and the others, before the panic spread. He'd seen what had happened to human armies when they panicked. He didn't fancy watching it happen to beings who had gathered out of sheer loyalty to his dead sire.

"Hanyo!"

The shout was behind him. Behind him, Cheiriyo let out a snort. "The leader of the panthers, Taisho-sama," he said.

_Taisho?_ Inuyasha winced internally, not wanting to be considered any kind of leader. But, since he was the only son of his father still standing around, he supposed it was inevitable. Pushing aside the thought, Inuyasha nodded, and made himself look at the youkai who were looking at him.

"Watch my back," he told them. "That last sneak attack nearly took me out for good—don't let it happen again."

He neglected to mention that—according to Cheiriyo—he had actually been killed.

That was something he didn't want to think about.

Heads nodded, and voices muttered uncertain assent. Ignoring the prickling of his neck hairs, Inuyasha turned around. He had never trusted a youkai behind him, but he figured that the odds of being attacked by one of his dad's loyalists were a lot lower than another secretive attack by a panther that could make itself invisible…

Inuyasha looked down the slope towards the central pack of panthers. The leader was readily visible, her slender lance glowing white. What had Sesshomaru called her?

"The name is Inuyasha, Touron-Taisho," he called down, raising Tessaiga slightly. "What do you want?"

"Your cause is lost, hanyo," she replied. "Surrender, and spare your brother's followers' lives."

Inuyasha snorted, then raised Tessaiga and dropped it back against his shoulder. "Seems to me, that I could say the same to you. How many lives have your people lost, so far? At least a third?"

"Your brother is dead, hanyo."

Inuyasha scoffed. "I don't know where Sesshomaru took himself off to, but don't go fooling yourselves that you've killed him. I've fought him a lot of times—Sesshomaru is too damn fucking mean and strong to die. Yeah, I'll admit that you hurt him—congratulations. But, don't believe he's dead. In fact, if you're smart, you'll start running back towards wherever you came from and hope that he doesn't find you, when he does recover from whatever you did to him."

The teal-haired woman laughed. "We'll take our chances, hanyo," she sneered. "Whether he's alive or dead, doesn't make any difference to you. Do you really think, you can survive the same attack that we used on your brother?"

Inuyasha's eyes narrowed. "Do you really think you can survive _my_ attack?" he retorted. "How many have I killed, in just two swipes of my blade?"

She laughed, her amusement joined by several others in her group. "If your attack is so powerful, why don't you use it now, hanyo?"

He tightened his grip on Tessaiga, clenching his teeth. He could feel the winds clashing quietly behind him; but between him and those panthers … nothing. He was too far away.

If only he didn't need the direct clash of two youki winds to trigger the attack.

Damn it!

"Why don't you tell your people to stand aside?" she invited. "We're not interested in them—they can leave. You just stand there, and we'll make this quick."

His gut was very unhappy. Inuyasha told it to shut up. Eyes narrowing, he studied the slope between him and the panthers, estimating distances, and times. He hadn't seen their attack on Sesshomaru, so he had no idea how fast they were, or how strong. Maybe he would be fast enough to dodge their attacks, to get the Windscar attack off once in range before they did. But, if he wasn't…

He raised his left hand to join the right on Tessaiga's hilt, lifting it off his shoulder. The white fur wreathing the base of the hilt was warm where it brushed his hands, as was the hilt itself. He could feel the power of his father's fang, feel the connection in his soul, where it protected him from his blood. _You've saved my life, and my sanity, Tessaiga,_ he thought to the blade. _Help me take these panthers out. For the sake of the old man's people, and for my friends._

Inuyasha breathed deep, shifting his weight forward. "Ryokan, Cheiriyo, the rest of you," he said quietly. "Stay out of the way."

"What?" asked Cheiriyo.

"I'm going down there, to take them out," Inuyasha said. "I'll be dodging, and I don't want you to get caught in their attack, if it misses."

"But—"

"Cheiriyo," he interrupted the akashihi. "I don't want anyone sacrificing their lives for me. The old man left Tessaiga for me: left it to me so I could protect people. If I can't get close enough to those panthers to take them out … then maybe I don't deserve Tessaiga, after all."

"You could be killed."

Inuyasha gave a short, soft bark of laughter. "I've been dead once already, Cheiriyo. Not to mention insane. Ani-ue put himself in danger to teach me the Windscar: he put himself in danger to save me from my blood madness. I figure I've got to prove I'm worth what he risked. And it's what the old man would want. Now, move away." He heard and felt the others shifting position. Only Cheiriyo remained in position for a final moment.

"All the gods protect you, Inuyasha-Taisho-sama," murmured the elk.

Inuyasha gave a single nod of acknowledgement, waiting to hear the hoofed youkai moving away. He deepened his breathing, concentrated on his youkai senses and his sense of smell. The panthers' power was building, shimmering in his inner sight. Wait for it … wait for it …

Now.

He leaped.

… … …

The attack against Sesshomaru had tired them. There was no way that they could create a sustained attack as they had against the pure-blood. But, they wouldn't need to, thought Touran as she focussed her own power on the lance, feeling it gathering, spiralling around the contribution of her siblings and her most powerful followers. The hanyo was only half-youkai. His human half meant he was weaker, less resilient. It was the sword that was the danger, not the hanyo.

They just had to hit him.

She saw his followers drifting away from him, and knew that he had accepted his fate. Good. Despite his words, despite her own doubts, Sesshomaru had to be dead, destroyed by their combined power. Given that, how could a mere hanyo possibly survive? Especially a hanyo who had the same weakness as his sire—the reluctance to let others sacrifice their lives to protect him?

Fool.

The hanyo moved suddenly, dashing down the slope, running, leaping, bouncing side to side in an erratic course obviously intended to avoid their strike. She smiled, grimly. "All your power—now!" she ordered. They responded. She felt her lance shaking as the power built. Narrow-eyed, Touran watched the bounding hanyo with every fiber of her being that was not pouring her own strength into her weapon. She watched. She waited. No dog could match the agility of a feline. And no hanyo could out speed her, outguess her. He was dead, and did not know it—

The lance snapped up without conscious thought. All of the power within it blasted outward at their combined will. A blazing ball of sheer power, coruscating with all the colors of their combined talents erupted less than a dozen lengths from the hanyo, its diameter greater than his height and growing. And, Touran knew, in that moment, that there was no way he could avoid contact. He was moving too fast: the combined speed of his run and the speed of the power blast was too high. The hanyo was doomed…

… … …

Inuyasha plunged down the slope, ears flattened, losing himself to instinct and the feel of power. Tessaiga's power was pulsing again, building as he moved, drawing on his own youki as well as its own. His feet danced without his eyes needing to gauge the path. And the power before him built and built, a spiralling mix of white and red, pink, and yellow. The essence of fire and ice, lightning, and illusion, and fainter whispers of water and air, heat, and cold, metal and wood, mixing into a monstrous whole.

Without warning, the energy detached itself and roared forward. Immediately, Inuyasha knew that he could not avoid that massive sphere. And there was no clash of his youki wind the with sphere, no scar to slice through. The sphere was organized youki, spiralling about itself, immune to the touch of his own youki. And yet, there was something. A smell. Something burnt. Something in him that knew.

He plunged forward. The sphere engulfed him.

The smell increased.

Instinct saw it—a flaw, an imperfection. A burning spot. He felt the power that desired to destroy him.

Except, that he would not let it! He would not let it destroy him!

Inuyasha swung, reaching for that flaw with the leading, cutting edge of Tessaiga.

Oyaji's fang.

His blood. His power, joined to the power of the fang. Guided by it, bound to it.

He _was_ Tessaiga.

… … …

Cheiriyo moaned as he saw the hanyo engulfed by the sphere. Others cried out in dismay, and in the distance, he heard shouts and yowls of triumph. Done for! The blood of the Inu no Taisho—his sons—! Grief, fear: why had fates allowed the panthers to win? The cats who had destroyed his own people, and were now destroying the sons of the daiyoukai who had rescued him and bid him live, and who had foreseen that one day, the akashihi would save one of the son's lives!

Failure!

Despair!

The sphere bulged, oddly. Cheiriyo watched, wanting to look away, yet unable to. That fine, young man who had gone through so much pain and effort: that boy for whom the Inu no Taisho had died to protect—gone!

The sphere fluxed, bulged again, and slowed to a stop. Power exploded out its sides.

Power that was not like the sphere's.

More like …

Whirlwinds roared into life. The akashihi started as he sensed the depth of that power, and felt a—_a determination, a will,_ in that power that was beyond measuring. They moved—in the same path that the sphere had taken, but in reverse. And they took that sphere of power with them.

The whirlwinds howled with still increasing power, sucking the sphere apart, absorbing its energy. They stormed down on the gathered panthers, and Cheiriyo stared as something appeared in their aftermath: an arc of gold blazing more brightly than the whirlwinds, and, in silhouette, a two-legged form with the blade in its hands, its long hair blowing in every direction.

_Inuyasha!_

_He was alive!_

… … …

Touran had time to stare, in utter shock, as the sphere bulged and fell apart, and as monstrous whirlwinds howled straight towards her and her sibs and companions, at a speed and strength which she knew they could not escape.

She sensed, more than saw that the hanyo had survived. Survived! And turned all their gathered power back against them.

_How? How! He was only hanyo!_

_They had defeated _Sesshomaru_! The true son of the old Inu no Taisho! How could a mere hanyo destroy them?_

She would never know the answer.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Drat. Sorry not to post this sooner: I was blocked a bit on writing this. (I felt a bit as if I'd painted myself into a corner, and wasn't sure if I could get even 1000 words of action for this part.)

But it's done now. There's still a bit more to go. There's a lot of threads still hanging, and not all of them will be tied up in Blood Unbound. But, that's what sequels are for...

(1/6/2013)


	41. The Price of War

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Chapter 40: The Price of War**

The light and fury of Inuyasha's incredible attack faded, leaving only the light of Tessaiga to illuminate that part of the battlefield. Cheiriyo shivered, his fur rippling as it traveled from withers to tail. That had not been like the first two attacks. It had been immensely more powerful.

What was this hanyo who could wield that much power?

Was there anything below a daiyoukai that could defeat that attack?

"Get them!"

Cheiriyo swung his head, distracted from the solitary silhouette. Dimly, through the night and the rain, he could see the panthers scattering. Ryokan had leapt forward, disgorging the puppet wolf youkai that were his primary attack. Youki flared, flickering with rising blood lust, as others around and above him responded to that call and the enticement of panicked, fleeing prey. _No_, he thought silently, shivering again; a healer, a broken akashihi who was once again too painfully aware of the slaughter that had just occurred, and was going to occur. _His people had tried to flee. The survivors of the initial attack had been pulled down, one by one, despite all his efforts to defend them…_

"Stop!"

The yell rang over the battlefield, over the growing yips and yowls. Silence fell on the mountainside above the hanyo. "Let. Them. Go."

"Why?" demanded one youki, bolder than the rest. "They tried to kill us! They're fleeing, they're easy meat! We'll chase them down, devour their lives and their blood! It's what they would have done to us!"

"Because this Taisho orders it." The glow from his blade cast light on Inuyasha's face. It pulsed, and then, slowly, the blade moved in an arc that could have sent an attack in their direction, had the inu wished it. Cheiriyo felt youkai shrinking away from that threat. "Anyone want to argue?"

No one did. Inuyasha kept his stance, sword out and pointing at the intimidated youkai. Then, with a quick movement, he swept the sword back and into its sheathe, causing the combined aura of hanyo and Tessaiga to drop precipitously. Cheiriyo felt his body relax—and sensed the others doing the same, as the implicit threat was shielded.

The hanyo crossed his arms, and spoke again. "I understand that you—people came here because you all felt you owed the old Inu no Taisho a debt of some sort. Correct?"

"Yes, Taisho," replied Ryokan, bending his head. "He saved my life—saved many of us."

Murmurs of assent.

The hanyo nodded. "Whether or not your actions here have repaid your debt to my sire," he said formally, "only each of you can decide. But, I will say that as far as I am concerned, you have paid your debt. You risked your lives to help defend against the panther invasion. When Sesshomaru-Taisho was wounded and forced off the field, you turned to me as leader, though I am hanyo. For what you have done for my father's blood; for the honor you have extended to me, I thank you." Uncrossing his arms, Inuyasha bowed deeply. Straightening, he moved his head slightly, apparently scanning the watching youkai. "Go in peace," he said quietly but audibly. "Friends of my father."

Cheiriyo shuddered, filled again with wonder that the half-youkai could be so much his father's son. He bowed his head, acknowledging the young taisho. All of them did, bowing in what fashion best suited their shapes. Then, as the crowd began to shift and mill, Cheiriyo closed his eyes and transformed to his two-legged form. Calling his staff to him, letting it flare to provide a bit of light, he started down towards the improbable victor of the war.

… … …

The hanyo's second attack barely missed them. Mist had barely had time to realize what was happening, to drop to the ground and twist to drape herself over her injured sister, before the edges of the massive attack raked through her youki and senses.

Dazed and shaken, it took long moments for Mist to feel recovered enough to lift her head and look around. Tōran's voice came to her ears, and the tabby-furred panther saw the leaders of the clan gathered in a tight group, their youki swirling in a coruscating knot centering on Tōran's spear. She heard the hanyo responding to the leader's challenge, and her laughing response. Shivering, trying not to whimper, Mist flattened her ears and lowered her head, recognizing what was coming, and feeling more terrified than confident. A hanyo that didn't stay dead. A hanyo that took out dozens of her people with a single swing. She knew the leaders were far, far stronger than she herself: from the stories she'd learned about the last invasion, they had to be, to even consider challenging the sons of the daiyoukai who had taken out the legendary daiyoukai of the panthers. But, against the un-killable hanyo and his blade … please the kami, let Karan and her siblings win!

Mist saw—and felt—what happened. Saw the hanyo bounding erratically down the slope, his massive sword glowing. Felt the panthers' gathered youki intensifying, growing to an enormous, concentrated sphere of power that made all her fur stand on end, as far away as she was. Saw the sphere released, saw it absorb the running hanyo, knew an instance of hope.

And then, from seemingly nowhere, vortexes of youki appeared, halting the sphere in its track, forcing it back, and then, pulling it apart, and absorbing it. Cyclones of pure power roared back down the track of the sphere. And Mist silently screamed as she saw and felt the panthers' leaders ripped apart, both their bodies and their youki.

_No! Karan!_

Mist stared, howling inside, her throat frozen in shock and grief, as she watched the disaster. Even as the light faded, as the cyclones dissipated, leaving behind only a massive, disorganized cloud of youki, she could not look away, could not move, could not feel anything but pain. Her one friend, her one protector, was gone. Destroyed. The only one who had really ever believed in her and her sister; the only one who had encouraged them to find and hone their talents.

Karan!

A movement against her belly, and a whimper, finally broke through Mist's shock. Recalled to herself, the panther pushed herself up on shaking legs and stepped back. "Sister?" She breathed.

Fog struggled to stand up, failed, and with a whimper of pain, went limp. Alarmed, Mist nosed her, snuggling, and licking her head before moving to her shoulders. The scratches on her sister's body had widened and deepened, leaking blood. And her youki was weakening, her breathing fast and shallow.

Fog was dying.

Mist stumbled backwards, her world collapsing. Fog couldn't leave her! They were litter-mates, they belonged to each other, as long as both lived—

Without Fog, without Karan, Mist had—nothing. Nothing to fight for. Nothing to defend. No one to care for, and no one to care about her. She would be alone. Utterly alone.

Shaking in every part of her being, Mist swung her head about, as if searching for something—anything—that might bring a miracle and save her sister.

But, all she saw was the hanyo loosely surrounded by a small group of youkai, talking to him.

Thought disappeared. Sanity disappeared. Only grief and rage survived.

Still silent, locked in her frozen howl of grief, Mist charged.

… … …

Several youkai skittered past him as Cheiriyo made his way down the slope. The akashihi youkai smiled slightly as he heard them start asking questions, talking over each other, mostly questions about the great sword, or pleas that the hanyo must come and destroy their enemy. Feeling his exhaustion, Cheiriyo continued his slow, deliberate walk. He craved no answers or favors from the hanyo. He would wait, until the others were finished. His words to the hanyo were meant for no other ears. He could wait, for those final words he would say, before returning home.

Home.

Cheiriyo halted a bit away from the gathered group, looking around, aware of a sense of wonder, that he had survived. He had not really expected to live, even back when he had not yet audibly made his commitment. When he had left, though insisting that he only intended to visit and talk with the great tree Bokuseno, she had known. He had left behind grief and pain, but, caught between two worlds, between two sets of obligations, he had chosen the path that had been chosen centuries before. A new life, a new understanding, a new feeling, could not withstand the demands of the past, of his youkai blood and honor.

He sighed. The rain had stopped, and the sickle moon was peeking between a gap in the clouds. Cheiriyo examined the churned, muddy slope with eyes and ears and youki senses, sensing the fading youki of the fleeing panthers. He should, he supposed, consider the deaths of all his people to have been avenged. But, he felt no sense of satisfaction, in considering all the panthers who had died. Why should he? He felt only faint relief, that he was still alive, able to return to _her_.

A flicker caught his attention: a blur, a ripple in the air. Snapping his head around, Cheiriyo concentrated all his attention on the blur. Almost, he could make out a form—four-legged and tailed—bounding across the ground, with a faint, almost undetectable youki aura. That was detectable mostly because of the ringing, wailing sense of utter grief and mindless rage.

It was charging at speed. It was a sensation of claws and fangs and fur. Cheiriyo caught his breath, and in an instance of clarity, _knew_. Recognized the attempt to repeat the recent past. And, distracted by his questioners, with the battle seemingly over, Inuyasha was as unaware of the danger as the first time.

Cheiriyo moved. He had no time to transform, not in his exhausted state. He barely had time to even think, as he came to his realization when the ghost was fewer than two leaps from the vulnerable hanyo. He jumped, discarding life, discarding hope, lunging into the path of that oncoming ghost.

"Inuyasha-sama!"

They collided, ghost-panther, and human-shaped akashihi. His left arm shattered in the panther's jaws, even as his right hand grabbed the panther's short mane and held on. Claws raked him as he went down, raking down his chest and his belly, striking deep. Cheiriyo hit the ground hard, but his grip did not yield as the panther howled and writhed, struggling to break free to attack its real target. Cheiriyo would not let go. There was nothing else in the universe, except to not let go.

Until the panther was torn from his grip…

… … …

Inuyasha tried to keep his ears from folding back, and tried not to fidget, as the unfamiliar youkai gathered close and threw questions at him. They smelled of hope, they smelled of greed, and the experience of a lifetime was yammering at him to swipe at them and get rid of them, now!

"I already said, no, you can't touch Tessaiga!" he snapped. "The old man put a spell on it: a pure-blood youkai will get burned if it touches it! And, no, I'm not going to go with any of you and slay some enemy youkai on your say-so!"

"But, Taisho-sama—!"

"Taisho-sama!"

"We need you! They ran us—"

"You can't just leave—"

"Please, Taisho-sama, I just—"

"Inuyasha-sama!"

Inuyasha whirled at the shout of warning, and saw the ghostly form of a small panther and the healer leaping. They collided, and the healer went down, as youki shifted, and the faint moonlight revealed a silver, tabby-furred panther with Cheiriyo's left arm in its jaws. "No!" Inuyasha jumped as blood and youki spewed, as the panther released the arm and yowled, as he saw Cheiriyo gripping the panther's neck with his one good hand. Inuyasha landed, grabbed with both hands, and pulled the panther off Cheiriyo with a lunge and a snarl of range. Snatching out his sword as he turned to watch the panther slam into the ground and roll.

"You stinking cat!" he yelled. "I told everyone to let all of you go, I chose to be merciful, and now you come back and attack my friend? Who the hell do you think you are?"

The panther rolled to her feet, blood staining her fur. She snarled back, ears flat; her aura—weak as it was—flaring with hate. "I was coming after you!" she spat. "I was going to kill you again, and he got in the way!"

Something twitched inside. "What do you mean, 'again'?" demanded Inuyasha.

Her eyes flashed. "I'm the one who broke your neck, hanyo," she snarled. "I killed you, and I don't know how you came back to life, but I'm going to kill you again! Unless you kill me first, as you killed my friend! Like your brother poisoned my sister!"

Inuyasha blinked, a bit taken aback by the realization that he was confronting his 'killer.' Then, he tightened his grip on Tessaiga, raising it. There was no clash of winds, he realized. But, he didn't really need the Windscar for a single panther, now did he?

"If you want to die," he retorted, "then go ahead. You'll never take me down without the element of surprise."

She snarled, crouching, clearly preparing for a leap. Inuyasha crouched a little himself, raising Tessaiga, intending to find out just how easily Tessaiga could separate the panther's head from her neck.

"Inu—yasha—sama." A wavering, pained voice whispered behind him. "Please … don't … kill."

Inuyasha's ears jerked in his surprise, but he didn't take his gaze away from the crouching panther. Though, she had also heard the voice, judging from the way her ears snapped forward, and her head turned.

"Why the hell should I do that?" demanded Inuyasha. "The panther tried to kill you, she wants to kill me—I should just let her go free, so she can ambush me again?"

"Can't you … feel her aura … ?" whispered the healer, his breath catching. "So—much—grief … pain … aloneness."

Reluctantly, not changing his wary stance, Inuyasha concentrated on the panther. After a few moments, he blinked, feeling a bit discomfited, and trying not to show it. Cheiriyo left out the sense of hatred, but it was weak compared the other emotions. The feline was an empty, howling void of devastation, of loss, and grief.

She wanted to die.

"I feel it, healer," Inuyasha said somewhat impatiently. "And she wants to die. So, why don't I just give her what she wants?"

"Kitten…"

Her ears went down a little. "I'm not a kitten!" she spat.

"Youngling." Inuyasha breathed in the stench of blood and guts and dying, and swore mentally, unable to understand why Cheiriyo should be wasting the last of his life on the enemy who had—damn her!—killed him. "Your—sister. You—said … 'poisoned' … not … 'killed'."

"That other dog poisoned her, when he threw us away," the panther answered. "Only scratches, at first, but the wounds grew, and she's dying." Her voice broke on the last word. "Without her, without Karan—what's left to me? There's nothing to live for."

"I … may … yet … heal her."

"Healer!" Inuyasha yelped in outrage, then shut his mouth as the panther rose from her crouch, her ears all the way forward, with a faint throb of hope in her expression. She was staring past him, and a shiver ran through her fur.

"Heal her?" the panther whispered "You? How? Why?"

"Tai-sho—sama… please … help me."

Inuyasha hesitated. He glared at the panther, but she was clearly paying no attention to him. He hesitated a moment longer, then sheathed Tessaiga and jumped backwards over Cheiriyo's prone body. Not taking his eyes off the panther, he knelt on one knee, reaching down to touch the dying youkai's shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Pouch … open it … three jars … salve …"

Flicking quick glances downward to guide his hands, while keeping most of his attention on the silent panther, Inuyasha located the healer's pouch—with its strap almost torn apart from the panther's claws—fumbled with the fastenings, then reached in, feeling the contents. Locating the round, hard objects, against the various bags, the hanyo pulled them out one by one, presenting them one by one. "This one…" whispered the youkai. He raised his shaking hand, and set it on top of the lid. Inuyasha felt a strong pulse of youki, and the clay jar began to glow green.

Cheiriyo sighed, and his hand fell away. "Give that … to her." He rolled his head, to look in the direction of the panther. "Youngling …"

"Mist," she said. "My name is Mist. My sister is Fog."

"Mist." Inuyasha saw him smile. "Spread … salve … over wounds … she … will … recover…"

Mist looked up to meet Inuyasha's eyes. "He—he is truly—a healer?"

Inuyasha nodded curtly. "Yes." He eyed her a moment, unwilling to get closer to her than necessary. "Here. Catch."

He tossed the glowing jar. The panther caught it between her teeth, stared at him for a long moment, then turned away.

… … …

Mist ran, confusion mingling with hope. How could the youkai she'd mortally wounded possibly care about the life of her sister, when his own was forfeit? Why had he deliberately thrown himself between her and her prey? He was not inu, nowhere close to inu. She didn't understand.

And yet, now she had hope. The inu hanyo had not lied when he admitted his companion was a healer. And, for a chance of life for her sister, she would risk accepting a gift from a dying youkai.

She returned to Fog's crumpled form, and was relieved to sense that her sister was still alive. Setting the jar down, she pulled off the lid with her teeth, and then eyed the open jar with uncertainty. It was small. It was more than large enough for a human-shaped finger, but her entire paw would never fit into it. Spreading the toes of her paw as far apart as she could, Mist gingerly tried to extract some of the softly glowing salve with a single digit. To her relief, she was successful in extracting a glob with one toe. Awkwardly, she began to spread the stuff over her sister's wounds, sneezing occasionally as the pungent salve stung her nose. Time and again she dabbed a toe into the jaw and spread the salve, stopping at one point to pull her sister on to her other side. Towards the end, when her toe did not return any salve, Mist glared at the jar, then picked it up with her mouth. Juggling the jar with her tongue, she maneuvered it to her back teeth, then crunched down.

Agh! She shuddered at the taste and quickly spit out the fragments. Carefully pawing at the pieces, she managed to extract the last of the salve and spread it.

Sighing, exhausted, Mist curled up around her smaller sister. Listening, she thought the heartbeat was a bit stronger, and perhaps the breathing a bit less labored. Hoping she was not fooling herself, Mist lowered her head and began to wash her sister's ears and face.

"Stay with me, little sister," she whispered between licks. "Stay with me."

… … …

Inuyasha watched the panther gallop away, then growled to himself and looked around. The youkai who had come to talk to him were huddled in a group, looking rather stunned at the turn of events. Baring his teeth, he snarled at them. "Go away."

One and all, they started. "But, Taisho-sama—"

"I'm not your damn leader," he snapped, rising to his feet and putting one hand on Tessaiga. "The war with the panthers is over. Go home."

"But—"

"I said, 'go home.'" He increased the intensity of his voice and his glower. "I am not my father. I'm a hanyo. And since I can count the number of youkai who were ever kind to me while I was growing up on the fingers of one hand, you'll forgive me if I'm not inclined to go around meddling in youkai affairs. If the problem is that damn serious, you can look for me, to ask for help—but remember that you may have to persuade a certain miko that you don't endanger her people, first. The miko who held the Shikon no Tama before it was destroyed? You may have heard of her."

The horrified gazes and shrinking reactions affirmed they had. Inuyasha smirked. "Go home," he repeated. And growled again.

They gave in, crestfallen and disappointed. Inuyasha watched them go, as they headed upslope, then turned around to the only thing he cared about at the moment.

Cheiriyo was still alive, but barely, he saw, as he dropped to his knees. "You damn fool of an elk," he whispered, reaching down to touch the youkai's forehead with the back of his fingers. "If you had that much youki left, why didn't you use it to heal yourself?"

The eyelids slid apart, and Cheiriyo smiled a little. "Not enough," he whispered, then sighed. "She was … like me," he whispered. "Bereft of reason … to live. Your sire … gave me life … it … pleases me … to help another…"

"But, damn it, Cheiriyo, she tried to kill you! She was aiming for me, and you stepped in front of her—why?"

"You're … more … important … than one … old … failed … herd master…" Cheiriyo's right hand moved restlessly. Hesitantly, Inuyasha slid his fingers around the hand. Cheiriyo squeezed his hand. "My … staff?"

Inuyasha looked around and spotted it. Wriggling his hand free, he went over and picked it up. Settling back down, he gently laid the staff over Cheiriyo's chest, trying not to look at the ruined belly. He guided Cheiriyo's hand to the staff. The hand gripped it, and then Cheiriyo's face twisted in concentration. The staff began to glow, then sparkled and vanished.

"Inuyasha-sama…"

"Yeah? I'm here."

"You spoke … of defending me…"

Inuyasha swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. "I failed."

Cheiriyo rolled his head back and forth, once. "I have a beloved. And a son. A hanyo son."

Inuyasha's widened in shock. "Hanyo?" he whispered.

The small smile was back. "Your father … was not the only … youkai … to learn … of love. With a human."

"You want me … to protect them."

"If … needed."

"Of course, I will."

Cheiriyo turned his hand over, opening his fingers. "Take this," he murmured. Inuyasha plucked the object out of his fingers, hesitated then tucked it inside his jacket. "It will guide you … to Akemi. Tell her … tell her … I love her."

Inuyasha swallowed down the lump in his throat again. "I'll tell her," he whispered. "My word on it."

The youkai closed his eyes. "The inu … keep their word."

"Keh!"

Cheiriyo smiled again. Inuyasha stared down at him, smelling death taking hold of the youkai, and felt a reaction of anger and grief, his eyes starting to burn again. Damn it, why did it have to end this way! The elk had done so much for him! And for Kikyo as well! He wanted … he wanted …

Inuyasha grabbed Cheiriyo's hand with both of his own. "Thank-you," he said abruptly. "For—everything. Helping Kikyo. Helping me. Telling me about my dad. You … I … thank-you."

The fingers beneath his twitched, and the hand squeezed a little. "Your father … is … very … proud … of you … Inu …yasha … sama."

A cloud drifted across the moon's face. As if that were a signal, Cheiriyo sighed.

And his body shimmered, and turned to glowing dust, dancing on an errant breeze.

Inuyasha squeezed his eyes tightly against his tears. It did no good.

He hated war**_._**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Next up: Epilog. (Tonight, if all goes well.) (1/20/2013)


	42. Epilog

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Epilog**

Sunlight streamed past the sides of the mountain, lessening the shadows that still claimed the battlefield. Rubbing his tired, aching eyes, then running his fingers through his hair, Inuyasha finally stood and looked around. The aftermath of that fight was obvious in the growing lightThe youkai caught in the middle of his attacks had been disintegrated, and some dead, like Cheiriyo, had disincorporated. But, there were more than enough broken carcasses and separate bits littering the ground to reveal what had happened. Like all battlefields, it was ugly.

Youki moved. Inuyasha turned, hand reaching for Tessaiga. From a deeper shadow, an oddly-shaped, pale form walked. After a moment, the hanyo recognized the walker as Mist, carrying another cat on her back. Seeing that, Inuyasha did not draw his blade, but he remained tense.

She halted some lengths away, looking at him with ruby-red eyes. "It's—Inuyasha?"

He nodded. "Mist. Your sister survived."

"Yes, thanks to the healer. I … would thank him, if I could."

"He's dead."

"I know." Her voice was sad. "Why… did he do it? I—I'm the one who killed him. I don't understand."

Inuyasha grimaced. "I don't pretend to understand Cheiriyo, either. But, what he said: my old man saved his life, after all of his people were killed. He said … he wanted to pass that chance on."

The smaller cat lifted her head and opened her eyes. They were black, seeming to drink in the light. Inuyasha felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight of those eyes, but he met the gaze of both pairs of eyes unflinchingly. Fog opened her mouth, but, instead of speech, she gave a long, wailing, sad yowl.

"Fog says that she is also grateful to the healer, and sad that he is dead."

Inuyasha blinked. "Your sister doesn't speak?"

Mist looked away, her head lowering. "Our dam never spoke about our sire. But, most of the clan believes … that we aren't pureblooded youkai. Because we're small. Because we can't stand on two legs, and don't have hands. Because Fog cannot speak. Karan … Karan was the only one who really accepted us. She forced the clan to let us stay, when our mother left."

Inuyasha felt his feelings soften. He released his grip on Tessaiga. "Will you be able to go back to your clan?" he asked softly. "Some of them did survive."

She shook her head, still not looking at him. "No."

"What will you do?"

"I—don't know."

Silence lengthened as the sun continued to rise. Inuyasha studied the cats, and felt sorry for them. Which annoyed him, but he couldn't help it.

"Could we…stay with you a while?" she finally asked. "We'd like to know about our—savior."

Inuyasha twitched. "You want me to trust you?" he demanded, feeling incredulous. "You've only tried to kill me twice!"

Mist looked up. "And you killed my only friend, hanyo!"

"That was war," he snapped. "I was defending myself, defending my people."

"And, so was I!" she retorted. "I saw what you did with that sword; I knew that Fog and I, with our ability to mask ourselves, had a chance to sneak in and take you out. I did it to stop your killing my people!"

They glared at each other for a long moment. Inuyasha yanked his temper back in line, thrusting the memory of the feel of breaking vertebrae out of his mind. Crossing his arms, he sighed.

"How can I trust you, panther?"

Her ears perked. "I will give you my word, that we won't attack, unless you threaten us."

Inuyasha studied her, analyzing their scents, absently noticing that there were notes in them that were clearly non_-_panther in origin, though he could not define that difference. And she did not smell of lies.

He thought, then, of where he would go. He glanced up at the sky, hoping; but, the hawk youkai had long since left. Inuyasha sighed, regretting the lack of a way to get a message to Kikyo. But, much as he wanted, he couldn't go back to her. He had another errand to run, first.

"You can come along, for now," Inuyasha said, kicking himself internally for a fool. "Not long—I'll be heading into human territories. But, for Cheiriyo's sake … come on."

… … …

Sesshomaru awoke, and wondered why he was lying in an undignified heap in the middle of a forest. Feeling a slight riff of annoyance, he started to leap to his feet, only to collapse back to the ground as his left foot and his entire upper right torso flamed with pain.

He didn't cry out, but his eyes went wide as his breath caught. Waiting a couple of breaths until the first shock faded, the inu-youkai very carefully levered himself to a seated position with his left hand, and then looked down at himself.

The luxurious fur of his mokomoko was burnt and blackened where it crossed his shoulder and fell across his chest. His armor was burnt and cracked, barely holding together. The right sleeve was simply gone. As for his arm…

Sesshomaru stared at what was left of his arm in something that might have been described in shock. The arm ended halfway to the elbow, and what was left was deeply burned. He remembered what had happened: how he had just thrown the berserk, mindless Inuyasha towards the sword his father had chosen to use to protect the hanyo. He remembered how the cats' attack had hit at that exact same moment, at that moment he had been vulnerable.

He had been vulnerable, because he had been trying to rescue that fool from his madness in the quickest, most direct method possible.

He had been vulnerable because of his pride that would not allow anyone with his father's blood to run around like a crazed beast.

Forgetting about the battle in the middle of conflict was a mistake.

And he had paid for it.

Forcing himself to look away from his mutilation, Sesshomaru stared at the trees and bushes before him, his eyes stormy, his jaw clenched. After a few moments, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the protests of his body. Awkwardly, with his remaining hand, he pulled Tensaiga—sheathe and all—from his sash. It pulsed softly a few times, and Sesshomaru gave it a bitter look. He suspected that Tensaiga was the reason for his location in this unknown forest, but if the blade expected him to be grateful…

He threaded the sheath through his sash on his right side. If anyone thought that this injury was going to ruin his plans for power, they were wrong. Tessaiga, and its power, were clearly beyond his reach. Tensaiga was worthless.

He needed a sword, a real sword. Even before his father had placed the first training sword in his hand, Sesshomaru had _known_ that a sword was his destiny. A sword would be the focus through which he would send the power that would force the youkai world to acknowledge his supremacy.

For some few years, he had thought Tessaiga would be that sword.

It wasn't to be.

So be it.

He would find another sword.

This quest would start with Totosai.

And when he had his sword …

He would teach that hanyo to grovel.

… … …

Sesshomaru-sama.

Sesshomaru-sama.

He had to find Sesshomaru-sama.

Jaken stopped and peered blearily around. He didn't know how long he had been searching. He didn't know how long it had been since he had eaten, or slept. Everything since that horrible blast had struck and engulfed his master was a blur.

Except for one need.

To find Sesshomaru.

He lifted the staff of two heads and barked a command. It hovered upright as he released it, rotating slowly. Finally, it stilled for a moment. The man's eyes flashed red, and then it started forward. Jaken hurried to follow it, hoping, hoping, hoping.

He just had to find Sesshomaru-sama!

… … …

Rikaru eyed the rivulet surrounding his tiny island, then carefully—mindful of his body's weakness—crouched and jumped over to the mossy bank.

"Rikaru-san, you are better! And with three tails! I am —glad, you are better." The kitsune looked up and saw Akeneka standing just beyond the broad opening in the green, leafy wall. That opening had been present when he woke: that, along with the marked absent of that river youkai, were a clear signal that certain beings had decided that he was no longer a threat to burn down the forest.

A flicker of anger came at that thought, reaching for the flames. Rikaru squashed that flicker, imagining it encased in ice, isolating it from the still-unstable youki at his core. He had finally begun to understand what the river youkai had been trying to tell him, though it almost certainly be a long time before he would truly be able to control the power he had called.

"Rikaru?"

Not yet certain enough to transform to his humanoid form, Rikaru gave her a cold look. There was a smile on her face, he saw, but he could hear and smell her wariness. And, not surprising, was it? She knew she had betrayed him, refusing to accept her just punishment, fleeing from him and trying to help that hanyo.

That hanyo. Another glittering surge of rage had to repressed. The hanyo was the cause of all his problems. If the hanyo had just stayed in his own territory, none of this would have happened. A student wouldn't be dead. Akeneka wouldn't have betrayed him. And he wouldn't have been forced to remember the humiliating events of over a century ago, when that same hanyo had caused his own people to exile him.

_Inuyasha_.

Someday, he was going to track down that wretched, stinking hanyo, and destroy him.

Someday.

… … …

Miyatsu sighed, leaning against the wall of the house, watching the sunset in golden brilliance against pink and purple clouds. He felt conflicted.

He and the miko had finished going through Tsubaki's effects. They had dismantled or purified her several traps for youkai or humans, destroyed spells and papers. Some items—especially raw supplies, such as herbs—had been packed up to take back to the village for proper use. And four scrolls had been added to his pack, destined for his teachers at his temple.

Tomorrow morning, Yukuuku would transport the three of them back to Kikyo's village. And then, he would take his leave. The tanuki had agreed to transport him back to his temple, bribed by the promise of coins, and the possibility of a gift for her clan.

But, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. Wanted to watch over Kikyo and help her, at least until her leg was healed and she could walk on her own.

She was such a fascinating woman! Her power was easily the equal of his own, if not superior. She was beautiful as well, and strong-willed, as befit the last keeper of the Shikon no Tama.

No other woman he had met, could begin to match that particular combination of power, will and appearance. He had found himself almost completely uninterested in any of the other women in the village, and that was a rare thing with him.

He had even dreamed of her.

And she was in love with a hanyo.

Inuyasha was a good boy, at heart, Miyatsu knew, for all the shadows in his half-youkai soul. Overall, it was good, that he had found the weapon his father had bequeathed him that allowed the hanyo to keep his immensely powerful youkai blood under control. That brief glimpse of the transformed hanyo, and the red, raging aura that held little more than a mindless blood lust, was sufficient. With the sword, Inuyasha at least would have a choice in his life. He would be able to choose his path, to choose to lessen suffering … or increase it.

And yet, he felt uncomfortable at the thought of the two becoming a pair. Part of his discomfort, he knew, was the traditions he had been taught; the definition of right and wrong. Hanyo together with a human woman? By the teachings, it was wrong. Very wrong.

He was no longer certain of that. But, that was not the sole cause of his concern. There were hints, of issues, of expectations that might drive them apart or even destroy them. He truly cared about both, and felt the urge to stay, to be a source of advice and a listener, which he perceived they both might well need.

And yet, there was yet a third reason for his discomfort, and while he had acknowledged it to himself, meditation, so far, had not erased his feelings.

He was … jealous.

Jealous of Inuyasha.

Which was why he should make himself go.

If he could.

… … …

Kikyo sipped the healing tea Kaede brought her, leaning against one of the posts of the south-facing porch. She was glad to be done with sorting through Tsubaki's effects. Some of it had been horrible—especially the double-layered, white paper dog with bent, folded legs. The echo of malice and hate about that paper dog had been dismaying, but Miyatsu's recognition of its purpose, that it was a symbolic representation of Inuyasha, which had allowed Tsubaki to injure the hanyo simply by damaging the figure, had been sickening. With Tsubaki dead, Miyatsu had been fairly sure that the link to Inuyasha was gone. Nevertheless, they had spent considerable time working over it, praying, doing what they could to insure that the paper dog was harmless.

She sighed, looking out over the darkening meadow. It was good that completing the job of removing Tsubaki's evil was done. And yet, she would be a bit disappointed, when Miyatsu resumed his travels. The monk had power to match hers, but more important, had a knowledge and understanding of both the spiritual and physical world that exceeded hers, and a genuine willingness to share and discuss. They had had several fascinating conversations during their work, and in the evening. She couldn't help admiring him. And he wasn't really that bad to look at, once you got past the shaved head and the monk's robes…

Kaede sighed noisily. "I am so ready to go home," she stated. "I want to see whether White Nose has had her kittens yet. I want to sleep in our hut, again. And I want to say goodbye to Miyatsu—for good."

"Kaede!" Kikyo gave her sister a scolding look. "Miyatsu's been very helpful. There's items I don't think I could have neutralized, without his knowledge and skills."

"Oh, I know that," agreed the girl, idly kicking one foot up and down. "He's better than you, some ways. And some ways, he's not. But, I still don't like him."

Kikyo sighed. "And why don't you like him?" It wasn't the first time she had asked, so far, to no real answer.

Kaede looked at her with her one eye. "'Cause he likes you too much. And you like him."

Kikyo stared down at her sister, feeling the slightest bit of heat along her cheekbones. "Of course I like him," she replied. "He's clever, and powerful, and compassionate, and he's been very helpful. Why is that a problem?"

The stare was almost dark. "If Miyatsu leaves, nothing. But, what if he stays? What if he's still around when Inuyasha comes back? What is he going to think? Do you still like Inuyasha? More than Miyatsu?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** And here is the conclusion to "Blood Unbound." With the epilog, I've tried to update the status of the notable story threads which are still unresolved. I confess, I realized as I was writing this that I had completely forgotten about Jaken, since starting into the battle itself. Fortunately, I still had this section to write, so at least you know that he did survive!

I do hope to write a sequel … eventually. I want to finish the alternate-universe, Kikyo + InuPapa story, "White To Black", first. I'm also working on a novel which could actually be publishable, if I get it done. The sequel is fairly nebulous at this point, beyond one of the major themes, and a pretty good idea of who will be one of the main (if not the main) antagonists. I want to get it plotted out before I start to write, so that it will come more easily.

Anyway, thanks to all of you for sticking with this story. I know I'm not very good at answering reviews (I so wish thise site had a 'threaded' comment system, so everyone could see my responses when I do make them), but I do read them all, and appreciate them.

- britedark, on 01/26/2013


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